Inspiration
by VideoGameNut
Summary: We all know RWBY and JNPR attended Beacon Academy. But do we know what pushed them? What helped them decide it was the right path to take? What gave them a little... Inspiration? This is my tribute to Monty Oum. May he forever be remembered.
1. Chapter 1

**Jaune's Dilemma**

Chapter 1

"Why do I even bother"?

These were the words muttered by one Jaune Arc as he exited the campus grounds of Sentinel Academy. For the fifth time in several months.

In all honesty, he wasn't even surprised anymore. Why should he be? The instructors themselves told him he hadn't made any visible progress since his first attempt. By all rights he should've just given up already. Hell, some of the more blunt testers told him to his face that he wouldn't make it in.

Oh, but if there was _anything _the young man had inherited from his parents, it was his stubbornness. A complete refusal to simply let up in the face of something he wanted. And he wanted this. He wanted it so badly it almost hurt.

To become a Huntsman. Like his parents, his grandparents, like everyone he had ever admired. To be a paragon and example of Humanity. An embodiment of the Human resolve to never waver or give in. To stand strong against even the most incalculable odds, and emerge victorious!

But it just wasn't to be. No matter how many times he tried, no matter how many times he pushed himself, he just couldn't make the cut. For crying out loud, he was 17! Other prospective Hunters his age had already graduated from their Preparatory Academies and gone onto one of the Graduate Academies, like Beacon or Haven. He, meanwhile, still hadn't managed to pass the requirements to enter his first year at Sentinel.

It was disgraceful. **HE **was disgraceful. His own family never brought it up, and somewhere deep down he knew they didn't hold it against him, but reality was rarely strong enough to overcome shame unless it was rammed right down your throat. And shame was something Jaune had plenty of right now.

In fact, Jaune was so ashamed he hadn't even noticed where his walk had taken him. Nor had he noticed that at some point he had sat down on a bench in the middle of Crystal Park.

"So", he whispered, looking around at the familiar surroundings. "Looks like I've come back again, huh"?

Crystal Park was one of his favorite spots in the city. It was a large, circular expanse of every shade of green, along with flowers in various hues of red, blue, purple, and many more. A series of paths of marble tiles, gleaming from the falling sunlight lit the way into the center of the Park. The tile roads themselves took the form of five circles, with four paths from North, South, East and West piercing through them to the Parks center. All this leading up to the parks namesake. A large pond with a _gigantic _crystal, piercing up from the ponds depths like a shining geyser, frozen in time.

Ever since his mom first brought him here, Jaune had always loved to just sit back and relax on one of the benches by the Center, the innermost ring, watching people go by. Watch _LIFE_ go by. Whether it was a businessman on a cellphone, a group of teenagers, a couple looking for a romantic atmosphere, or just some kids with their parents, it was just nice to kick back and watch them all go by in the hustle and bustle of their lives. The park was empty today, but that didn't make the scenery any less beautiful.

Whenever he got depressed, Jaune always came on down here to this very spot to unwind. To slow his thoughts down and just let the peaceful atmosphere wash all of his concerns away, leaving him ready to get back up and keep going.

Too bad it wasn't working this time though. Apparently, even the relaxing atmosphere of Crystal Park just wasn't enough to wash it away this time. A fact made more apparent by his slowly growing depression. The painful thoughts of all that time dreaming of being something _MORE _soaking in again.

After roughly a half hour, Jaune's mood still hadn't improved. The young man was brooding so fiercely, he didn't even notice he had company until he heard the sound of someone politely clearing their throat on his right, trying to get his attention. Jaune was so surprised that he almost let out what would have been a very embarrassing yelp, before he turned to his soon to be acquaintance.

"Yo," said the man in question. "Mind if I sit here for a bit?" He asked with a friendly smile.

The man stood out so much, Jaune was a little surprised he didn't notice him sooner. He wasn't particularly tall, but he moved with a sort of… confidence, that Jaune had rarely seen before. A confidence that seemed to make him taller than he really was. He wore a Black button-up suit with short sleeves over a white T-Shirt, matching jeans, and shining black dress shoes. On his right wrist was a silver watch, and he wore a pair of sunglasses, for now held in place above his eyes. What Jaune noticed the most, however, was his hair. It was jet black, with a number of almost blindingly bright streaks of blond. Jaune had heard of people with multicolor hair, but they were pretty rare. Before today he had never even met someone with even just two natural colors in their hair, just people who dyed it.

"Let me guess," the man said in a tone that could only be considered playful, "you're wondering about my hair?" In a way that made it all too clear just how familiar he was with reactions just like the one Jaune was having.

For a moment the young Arc just didn't respond, then he froze like a deer in front of somebody's headlights after realizing he was caught. After a very awkward couple of seconds (which seemed more like several minutes in Jaune's mind), he had recovered enough to bring his right hand up to the back of his neck in embarrassment, and his formerly frozen body regained the ability to move.

"Sure", he responded, in a tone he hoped sounded friendly, also hoping he didn't sound too awkward.

The other man just gave a friendly smile before sitting down next to him on the bench, his posture quickly relaxing to the point where Jaune had almost thought he'd fallen asleep. Jaune had always considered himself to be somewhat skilled in the "Art of Lounging", always capable of getting himself into a comfortable position regardless of the place, but this guy casually one-upped him by just sitting on a wooden bench.

'_Showoff'_, Jaune bitterly thought in the back of his mind. He tried and failed to come to this park specifically to relax and let all his worries fade away. Needless to say, he failed, and now this complete stranger came to this very bench to achieve in less than two seconds what he'd been trying to do for thirty minutes! It was like the universe was laughing at him somehow.

For all his bitterness over the matter though, Jaune just wasn't petty enough hold it against the other guy. So, for another five minutes, Jaune also sank back into the bench, trying to imitate his new acquaintance…. And failing.

They both just sat like that for some time. Quiet, one relaxed and the other simply trying to relax. Until the newcomer decided the silence had gone on long enough.

"Depressed, huh?" Straight to the point.

Jaune was so surprised by the sudden question, and more importantly its nature, that he didn't respond for roughly ten seconds.

"Is it really that obvious?" he asked, rather bitterly. The other man either didn't notice his tone, or didn't care, because he continued regardless.

"Not exactly obvious," he said, turning over to Jaune. "But I've been told I'm pretty good at reading people. The trick is to watch the pacing or speed of their movements. When people are feeling depressed, they move around like their legs are bound by prison shackles. Like just moving is hard, and they're carrying a huge weight."

Well, that explained it. Somewhat anyway. Jaune certainly felt like he was being crushed by something, but he never thought it would've been obvious enough for some stranger to pick it up. Just another thought to add further to his depression.

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised," Jaune muttered under his breath. "Hiding it was just another thing I failed at." Yes, it was a petty remark, but Jaune was just feeling petty right now. He came here to _escape _his worries and concerns, but all this was just making it worse.

"Does it have something to do Sentinel Academy?" the stranger asked in an understanding tone, much to Jaune's surprise.

"Yes." The blond sullenly admitted. He wanted to be angry, he really did. But for some reason he couldn't stay angry at this guy. It wasn't this guy's fault he failed the Sentinel Academy entrance exam five times, it wasn't his fault he was a failure of his family line, none of it was this guy's fault.

"Would you like to talk about it for a moment?" the stranger offered. "I've got time, and I'm a pretty good listener."

Jaune wasn't sure how to respond. It wasn't exactly every day some guy sat down with you on a bench and offered to listen to you spill all your worries and concerns.

"Seriously?" Jaune asked in a tone somewhere between trepidation and…. hope. He couldn't help but wonder if this was all a joke or some dream, but….. but somewhere deep down he really hoped it wasn't. Bottling it all up, hiding it even from his own family, it was just getting painful. So he hoped. He hoped this was real and sincere and that he could finally let it all out.

At the man's nod, that one sign of assurance that he meant what he said, that this was real, Jaune let out a sigh and began to speak.

"My name's Jaune Arc," he started, "you've probably heard about my parents, right? Hunters? Pretty famous too, some of the best. Well, I've always wanted to be like them. I've always wanted to, to…" Jaune hesitated. He wanted to tell someone this so BAD, but could he really just let it all out? In front of someone he barely knew.

But the man beside him didn't mind the pause, didn't mind the hesitation. He just sat there beside him, patiently waiting for Jaune to continue.

He was listening. Really listening. And that was enough for Jaune to continue.

"To be a hero," Jaune continued, after his long pause. "To be a great Huntsman. I guess that's probably nothing new right? I mean, every kid on Remnant grows up hearing stories and legends about great heroes bravely holding back armies of Grimm. Winning the day with perseverance, bravery, and strength of arm. Any kid would want to grow up into someone like that right? But I'm actually the only son of a family of Hunters. This is the sort of thing that's practically _expected _of me, and….." Jaune hesitated. Could he really say it? Knowing it in his own mind and actually telling someone –a complete stranger, at that- were very different things. Telling this guy would be like laying his every worry on the matter completely bare.

Fortunately, his new acquaintance was capable of finishing that line of thought for him.

"And you're worried you're not living up to everyone's expectations?" the stranger asked, his tone somehow both curious and certain at the same time. "That you're just going to keep failing, over and over, no matter what you do? Because you're just not good enough?"

… '_Ouch'_. That hit him hard. It was one thing to know something personally, but for it to be pointed out so bluntly by someone else? That was almost painful.

"…..Yes", the blond Hunter-to-be admitted. "I want to be a Huntsman. More than _anything_! But I just…. every time I try, I just end up failing and making a fool of myself. _EVERY TIME!_ So now I just think, what's the point?" Jaune questioned. Honestly, he wasn't even sure himself if the question was rhetorical or he really wanted an answer. Did he even want an answer to this kind of question? An answer he already knew? An answer he was sure this guy would say to his face any moment now?

"I mean, seriously?" Jaune morosely questioned, "What can I do at all?"

"You can keep going."

{BEAT}

"…. Huh?"

Jaune couldn't think of any other response than that. This guy was telling him to keep going? After everything he'd told him? After everything that happened, he said to keep trying?

Jaune's confusion must've been pretty damn obvious, because the guy went on to continue speaking, as if the only way to continue the conversation was with an explanation. Then again, given Jaune's own shocked stasis it probably _was_ the only way for the talk to continue.

"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dream is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."

Jaune couldn't think of a counter to that. This guy said all of that with such certainty, such surety, that Jaune couldn't even begin to doubt it. It just felt impossible to do it, like he'd be lying about some universal law. Could it really be that simple? _REALLY!?_

"Do you…." Jaune tentatively began, not sure of how to continue.

"Really believe that?" Once again, the mysterious man continued for him, with that same smile on his face. "Yes. I do. Because I've lived it"

Suddenly, Jaune noticed the guy was holding a Scroll model tablet in his right hand, –Where did that come from? - then passed it to Jaune's own numb hands.

"There's a video ready to play on that," he explained. "Watch it for a bit"

Without a word, Jaune did as suggested. It took him a moment to turn on the video and enlarge the playing screen, but then it was ready to play.

Jaune's jaw proceeded to drop as he watched the video, slowly lowering to the ground with every passing minute. He couldn't quite get the context, but that didn't make it any less awesome. From what he could gather this guy in green armor was fighting off a bunch of aliens, taking them down with guns, hand-to-hand, flipping a HUGE jeep…. slamming a grenade into a huge monsters face and – HOLY CRAP! SHOTGUN KUNG-FU! SHOTGUN KUNG-FU!

Then someone else showed up and Jaune's mind proceeded to blank out. He vaguely remembered a bunch of explosions, somebody kicking or throwing a spaceship, the other character taking off her armor –Yes, HER armor-, the two teaming up and one really HUGE explosion at the end.

Needless to say, Jaune's mind was practically blank at the end. He could only keep staring at the screen like someone in a shock induced coma… which, now that he thought about it probably described him pretty accurately at the time. He barely noticed the hand waving in front of his face until he heard a finger-snap.

"Whoa," said the man next to him, Jaune could practically _feel _the smile from his tone alone. "never got _that _kind of reaction before."

"Uhhhh," Jaune replied, with the greatest courtesy and elegance he could scrounge up from his almost comatose state of mind. "What… What was that?"

"That," his companion proudly replied, carefully taking back his Scroll, "was_ my_ video. Pretty impressive, huh? Not too bad for a High school dropout who never took official classes, right?"

"Wait," Jaune muttered, slowly regaining his mental faculties one by one. "You made this? On your own? Without any classes to start with?" Jaune's surprise was evident on the final sentence. Then again, it was a little hard for someone to hide their shock if their voice shot up a few octaves.

"Yep."

The reply was so relaxed and nonchalant that for a moment, Jaune couldn't think of what to say. What _could_ he say? This guy was showing him some pretty compelling evidence for his claims, but still…..

"Do you really think it would be that simple?" Jaune's voice was low, but the hopeful tone was unmistakable. He wanted to believe this, but Web Animation wasn't exactly the same thing as becoming a Huntsman. It wasn't nearly as dangerous for one thing, or as physically demanding for another. But deep down, he wanted to believe. He wanted to believe he could do it somehow. He was so _close _to believing it again that he felt he could almost grasp it in his fingers. All he needed was one more push, just _one more_. And his companion was more than happy to oblige.

"Is anything worth achieving in life really simple?" The man asked. "Is anything in life that you want simply handed to you? Of course there are always risks. Sometimes you fight, struggle and push, only to straight up fail. But that doesn't matter. Because no matter how many times you might screw up, you only have to get it right once"

At those words, the man turned to him, staring Jaune in the face, pinning him in place with his eyes alone.

"The question is," he began, "Do you want it enough?"

Jaune could only answer with one word.

"Yes."

It was a simple answer. Not a hint of his former hesitation or uncertainty. Straightforward and blunt and direct and all he needed to say. It was the only thing he needed to say. More importantly, it was all the affirmation he needed to hear.

The other man seemed to like the answer too, if his smile was any indication.

"There you go, then"

And with that said, he got up and started walking away. Not taking a moment to so much as say goodbye, as if it just wasn't necessary. Like there wasn't anything more for him to do.

As he walked away, however, Jaune felt that it shouldn't end just yet. Not on this note. This guy practically gave him his confidence back and… Wait a minute!

"Hey," he shouted at the man's back from fifteen feet away, "I, uh, never got your name."

The man stopped walking for a moment, just standing in place before turning around with another one of his ever present smiles.

"The name's Monyreak Oum." He shouted back. "But my friends just call me Monty. So can you."

With his name given, the man turned back and just kept walking, Jaune watching until his silhouette faded from sight.

"Thank you," he whispered. He couldn't think of anything else to say, anything else that needed to be said. When he was crushed and scared and worried, this guy had shown up turned his fears upside down. Gave him will to keep on going.

And as he got off the bench to head home, to plan what he would do to achieve his dreams, he knew he would never forget him for it.

**EVER SINCE MONTY'S DEATH I'VE BEEN SEEING SO MANY TRIBUTES TO HIM ON , REMINDING MANY AND SHOWING MAY MORE JUST HOW MUCH HE HAS AFFECTED OUR LIVES. ONE THING THAT SRTUCK ME THOUGH, IS THAT PRETTY MUCH **_**ALL**_** OF THEM HAVE BEEN TRAGIC IN SOME WAY. I CAN UNDERSTAND WHY, REALLY I CAN. BUT I CANT HELP BUT WONDER, WOULD MONTY REALLY WANT US TO REMEMBER HIM ON A SAD NOT. HELL NO, I THINK HE'D WANT US TO MAKE A TRIBUTE TO HIM THAT SHOWS EVERYTHING HE TAUGHT US, HOW MUCH HE INSPIRED US, HE'D WANT A TRIBUTE THAT ENDED WITH A MESSAGE TO KEEP GOING. SO, THAT'S WHAT I'VE DONE HERE. I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING BAD TO SAY ABOUT THE TRIBUTES OF ANYONE ELSE ON THIS SITE, I JUST THOUGHT THAT WAS SOMETHING THAT NEEDED TO BE SAID. IF ANYONE'S GOT SOMETHING TO SAY, PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT THIS IS MY FIRST FIC. EVER. SO IF YOU HAVE ANY CRITICISM, TRY AND KEEP IN CONSTRUCTIVE, I HAVE EVERY INTENTION OF GETTING BETTER FOR MY OTHER FICS, AND APPRECIATE THE HELP. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Pyrrha's Troubles**

Chapter 2

It was a largely typical day in the surrounding regions of Sanctum Academy in the Kingdom of Atlas. Bright, warm, slightly humid and just the slightest salty tang on the air from the nearby coastline. People bustling up and down the streets throughout the rather large port town of Alexandrios.

It was always a rather lively town, but around this particular part of the year the activity tended to kick into overdrive. The Kingdom of Atlas had always been known for its innovations in all matters oceanic, due in no small part to the number of converging and intersecting marine currents around their northern and western regions. Alexandrios in particular was in a very fortuitous position. Due to the towns position along the stretch of coast commonly referred to as The Dragons Spine, it practically stared out at the vast expanse of ocean between Vale, Atlas, and Mistral itself.

Around this time every year, the fishing boats came in rich with various samples of marine wealth. Marine coral that showed every color of the rainbow, pearls extracted from clams from deep beneath the sea, rare fish and marine life potentially worth fortunes on their own. This place truly was a peerless example of maritime trade.

A fact one Pyrrha Nikos was becoming _very_ aware of.

Pyrrha loved her hometown. Really, she did. The scent of the sea hanging on the air, the smells from the countless vendors cooking fresh food mingling on the breeze, the unobscured sunlight shining down in warming rays, the distant and not-so-distant lapping of waves on the shore. She grew up here for her whole life, it had become so familiar to her over the year that she knew the layout like the back of her hand.

But there was just _so_ _many people_! So many people crowding the streets she could just barely walk without bumping into each other. So many people talking she could barely hear her own thoughts.

So many people that there was no doubt in her mind that somebody would recognize her. After which he or she would start making a fuss and then everybody in town would suddenly know who she was, and this one day where she could get away from her fame would be completely wasted.

Fortunately, she had the foresight to prepare for the crowds by wearing a completely different outfit than her standard attire. With a simple pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt, light brown leather vest, and a pair of white sneakers, the only traits of her appearance that stood out would have been her long red hair and green eyes.

Fortunately, she had prepared for the most noticeable characteristics of her appearance as well. Hiding her eyes was as simple as putting on a pair of shades, and her red hair was hidden away under a woven-straw sunhat.

Not exactly the most truly comprehensive of disguises, but it would hold up effectively against anything short of focused observation. With so many people bustling around her, their focus spread out over so many things, Pyrrha was confident she could spend the day without any concerns about being discovered.

Pyrrha's attention drifted to the comfort of her familiar surroundings as she calmly walked down the street, letting her memories guide her path. She had walked through these streets so many times she practically knew every vendor and shop along them by heart.

She didn't really have any particular destination in mind, it was just nice to be back in familiar surroundings again. She spent so much time training in Sanctum, preparing for tournaments, and participating in various publicity stunts for her several sponsors that she rarely had any real time for herself. As a result, she rarely had any real measure of time to simply have for herself, so Pyrrha had every intention of relaxing today. No fame, no fans, no applause, none of it.

Her line of thought on that matter was rudely interrupted, however, by the slight growling of her own stomach.

'_Well, well_', she thought humorously. '_Apparently famous people can get hungry too_'.

That thought in mind, the young champion headed down yet another familiar street to one of her favorite restaurants, a small seafood diner over by the southern shore, called the _Mariner's Rest_. It was a rather laid back little place, remembered for its friendly atmosphere, inviting décor, and slightly simple but delicious food.

Quite contrary to popular opinion, Pyrrha wasn't really fond of higher class cuisine. She never really managed to wrap her mind around why some people were so obsessive over solely eating the most pointlessly extravagant dishes, it seemed like nothing more than a pointless display of opulence to her.

She also happened to be on friendly terms with the owners, having known them quite well since before she even left to attend Sanctum. It helped that they were also quite aware of how she liked to escape her stardom, so they never revealed to anyone that she was a semi-regular customer of theirs, also demanding their other employees to share the courtesy.

After taking a moment to say a quick hello, she took a seat on a bench on the small pier outside, afforded a wonderful view of the sun slowly falling down into the waterline in the distance. For a few minutes, she simply browsed over the menu, wondering what she would be ordering today. The menus at the _Mariner's _Rest weren't held by hand, but a single, large sheet of paper held between two clear panes of plastic, bound down to the table with a screw in each of the four corners. It all just looked _SO _good, it was a little difficult to decide, and before she knew it she was completely occupied with just trying to decide between three particularly good looking dishes.

"Excuse me"?

So occupied in fact, that she didn't notice someone had just walked to the opposite side of the bench she was currently seated at.

With a slight blush at being so easily caught by surprise, Pyrrha pulled her eyes from her menu to glance up at the source of the voice.

It was a young man, perhaps somewhere in his early thirties. Slightly wild blond hair, white T-shirt, blue jeans, a watch on his right wrist, black and white sneakers, and a pair of shades over his eyes.

All in all, he seemed just like any other person who happened to live in Alexandrios.

So….. Why did Pyrrha get the distinct feeling he _wasn't_?

"Umm", he nervously mumbled. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, but all the other places are pretty crowded right now. So, I don't suppose I could sit here?"

He took a moment to sweep his hand to the surrounding benches and tables for emphasis, and, indeed, the seating areas of the _Mariner's Rest_ had become quite crowded. For a moment, Pyrrha just looked around, surprised at how packed it had become.

"_Wha….?"_ Pyrrha thought, confused and more than a little shocked. _ "How did this happen?"_

In a few moments however, Pyrrha realized the man across from her was still awaiting a response. So, with another slightly brighter blush of embarrassment, she nodded in the affirmative. "Certainly," she replied, doing her best to salvage what remained of her situational dignity with an inviting tone and a calm smile.

With a grateful smile of his own, the man opposite of her took his seat, looking down at his own menu to ponder over what he would order.

As a few minutes passed however, Pyrrha noticed her erstwhile companion was sneaking glances at her. Nothing untoward, simply curious, as if she were a puzzle or question he was trying to solve. After a while, Pyrrha was starting to get a little curious as to why, and so she couldn't help but voice her curiosity.

"Is something on your mind?" she asked, looking up from her menu to gauge her mysterious companion's reaction to her question.

Caught in the act, his face took on a slight note of embarrassment. Taking a moment to re-compose himself, he cleared his throat and prepared to speak to her.

"Have we..." He gave a long pause, as if searching for the proper words, before deciding on what to say. "Have we ever met before?"

Pyrrha's head tilts slightly in confusion at the question. _Had_ they met before? Alexandrios was quite large, but not especially so. Certainly not when compared to some of the larger cities of the Four Kingdoms. It could be possible that they had met at some point only to forget the moment later.

But, somehow, Pyrrha didn't quite think that was the case. She didn't know why, but for some reason Pyrrha was pretty sure she would remember meeting this man. There was something about him that simply refused to be forgotten, however brief a meeting with him might be. And, not to be boastful, but Pyrrha doubted he could've forgotten meeting her either. Her physical appearance had enough unique traits that it would be hard to forget her or-

… Oh. Oh no.

He didn't recognize _Her_. He recognized _Pyrrha Nikos_! He disguise would conceal her identity from cursory inspection, but this man was sitting right in _front_ of her. Not to mention he had been shooting a number of glances at her, _suspicious_ glances that were comparing what he saw in front of him to the celebrity the whole world knew.

Dammit! If he spoke out everybody else would know too, and her peaceful day away from the spotlight would go up in smoke. She had to salvage this somehow, convince him she was nobody important, someone beneath scrutiny. _QUICKLY_!

"Have we? She responded, doing her best to sound confused at his question. "I'm afraid you must be mistaken,"

Unfortunately, he didn't seem very convinced.

"No, I'm pretty sure I've seen you somewhere before." His face took on a pondering expression, staring her over. "You just look familiar somehow, like….is that red hair?"

"_What?"_

The moment the thought became clear in her mind, Pyrrha quickly took out her compact mirror from her left pocket. With a distinct urgency, she flipped it open and checked around the inner rim of her sunhat, looking for any- _THERE_!

It was just a few locks dipping out from the front right side near her eye. Not much, barely noticeable on its own but she was sitting in a position where the setting sun was practically _shining_ on it.

"And green eyes."

She froze. Dammit, she pulled her shades down while checking her hair with her compact mirror. He had a full view of two of her most obvious and memorable features.

He noticed her shock, unfortunately, because then his glances became much sharper. Measuring and comparing her to the famous Mistral celebrity she was just trying to escape from today.

"_It's over_", she thought. Now that he knew what to look for it would only be seconds until he revealed her identity to everyone here at the restaurant. All this effort for one, quiet day off would be for nothing.

Then, right when Pyrrha was so sure he would expose her, she got what was perhaps her greatest surprise yet today.

"No," he said, with a brief shake of his head, and a distinct tone of disappointment. "My mistake. I thought you were somebody else"

"_Mistake_", she thought. He'd mistaken her for somebody else. Who? Had she really gotten so worried over-

His sly look and mischievous wink immediately halted her thoughts. Silently, he mouthed "Don't worry," and casually went back to reading his menu.

Pyrrha sat frozen for a minute that felt more like an hour. Just staring at the man in front of her. Not a word. Not a sound.

And then she laughed.

Well, not really a laugh. More like a deep chuckle. As if there was some grand joke going on right in front of her and nobody else even realized it. On the other hand, that was probably a more accurate description than one would expect for a comparison.

Then her new acquaintance glanced at her smiling face for a moment. Her relieved, smiling face on the verge of breaking into laughter…. And let out a chuckle of his own.

In seconds the chuckles shared between them devolved into light, playful laughter. As if they were _both_ in on the joke.

The moment quickly passed, however, and they finally managed to regain their composure to place their orders. Pyrrha ordering a Seared Halibut filet, with a side of steamed greens and spiced potatoes, and her companion ordering a bowl of Cioppino.

The rest of the evening meal passed relatively quietly. They both spoke only a little, simply eating in a comfortable silence.

"That was delicious." Pyrrha sighed out, content and happy after finishing her food. The guest at her table seemed to share the sentiment, if his own slow and satisfied nod was any indication.

"No arguments here," he sighed out in turn. "Now, just have to pay the bill."

That said, he immediately brought his wallet out from his right pocket, and opened it up to sift through the Lien bills at his disposal.

"Oh," Pyrrha began, "that really isn't necessary, I'll pay."

His right brow rose up in challenge. "For both our orders? I don't think so. I should at least pay for my own food."

And so, their dinner itself ended in a small debate. On the one hand, the man wanted to pay for at least his own meal, considering it only polite and correct to do so. Having her pay for both would just be imposing. Pyrrha on the other hand certainly had the money for it, and, for better or worse, she thought she could at least do him this small favor. After all, he did her a favor by not revealing her identity in the middle of a crowd. He chose to respect her secrecy, and the least she could do was pay for just one more dinner than she'd planned.

Eventually, they managed to reach a compromise. They would pool the whole bill and each pay half the total, with Pyrrha also paying the tip.

The Mistral Huntress-in-Training couldn't suppress her smile at the end. Her new friend's face after they reached their agreement was so similar to that of a disappointed child. Like a mischievous little boy that was told he couldn't have the cookie he snuck out of the jar until he ate his vegetables. Pyrrha had never seen someone so disappointed at _NOT_ being allowed to pay their own bill.

After paying their collective bill at the counter, they both exited the _Mariner's Rest_ and walked along the streets together. Simply talking about small things, their interests, dreams, likes and dislikes. Things any normal person or pair of friends would talk about while walking along from place to place.

It was nice. Pyrrha honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so….normal. Like she wasn't some sort of celebrity or star athlete, just a normal 17 year old teenage girl.

Yet as those thoughts flew through her mind, she couldn't help but wonder. This man beside her _knew_ who she was, Pyrrha was sure of it. He'd seen through her disguise, there was no mistaking it, so why didn't he reveal her presence? It would have been, if nothing else, a possible blackmail situation, but he did nothing of the sort. He hadn't even asked for her autograph or anything.

All of a sudden, she stopped walking, standing uncomfortably still on the quiet sidewalk in the middle of the night. Her halt was so immediate her companion kept walking for a few more steps before he and turned around, his face questioning.

"Why?" she whispered, the words almost slipping out of their own accord.

He blinked, "What was that?"

Pyrrha hesitated, briefly wondering how to phrase her next words. "You know who I really am." It wasn't a question.

He raised an eyebrow, "You're Pyrrha Nikos. Four time champion of the Mistral Regional Tournament. _And_ the current poster-girl for Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Cereal." The right half of his mouth formed a wry smile. "Unless you picked up some other accomplishment in something _else_ while the world wasn't looking?"

The last phrase was obviously a joke, some attempt at lightening the situation, but it still made Pyrrha flinch slightly regardless. Yet another accomplishment? More like just some extra mortar for the pedestal everyone had been putting her on for over four years.

It was funny, in a painfully ironic way. Pyrrha had been so eager to excel, to push her abilities and limits and simply be all she could be. Yes, it sounded like something out of a cheap self-help ad, but it was true. She always believed, even hoped, that pushing herself to be her best would help her have a full and fulfilling life.

It really didn't help at the beginning.

Contrary to popular opinion, being more intelligent or skilled at something didn't tend to make people want to be your friend. It just made them jealous, often bitter about how someone else was doing so easily what would otherwise be hard for the rest of them, especially if they were under the impression that you were showing off.

As a result, Pyrrha wasn't exactly _popular_ back in her early years at Sanctum. The fact that she was also noted to have good looks even back then, actually made it worse. So, she trained even harder, day in and day out. Hoping that someone, anyone would at least acknowledge her.

And when the Mistral Tournament came around late in her first year, she leapt at her chance. Perhaps if she performed well, everyone would see just how dedicated she was, how she wasn't just trying to show off.

Or at least it could help her gain some real friends. People always wanted to hang out with the popular ones, right? So she'd become popular and she wouldn't feel so alone.

Then, against all expectations she _WON_. And with that victory came so much publicity. She had become the face of the next generation of Hunters in Mistral

But if anything, all that fame, all that status had only made things worse. The only people at Sanctum who wanted to hang out with her were simply interested in knowing the star athlete. The masses only wanted to know the flawless Huntress-in-Training. All those rich and famous people at the celebrations wanted to know the most recent celebrity.

Nobody wanted to know Pyrrha Nikos.

So immersed was Pyrrha in the memories of her own past, that she almost jumped in shock when she felt a hand on her shoulder, then looked up into the face of the strange man who had pushed her down that very line of thought.

"Not as great as it's all cracked up to be, huh?" His right brow quirked, again, in that expression of friendly curiosity. "Fame can be a real pain. Believe me, I know."

"Do you?" She asked, her head downturned, the slightest hint of bitterness in her tone.

She couldn't see his expression, but she could still feel his hand on her shoulder. Steady, reassuring. It was a nice feeling, one she hadn't felt for quite a while.

"I'll admit," he began, comfortingly, "I might not have it quite as bad as you. I mean, my face isn't so well known that I can't walk down the streets without a disguise. But, mostly, I just learned how to deal with it."

Pyrrha's face turned up, staring up at him with questioning green eyes. His hand left her shoulder, slowly rising to the rim of the sunhat on her head, lifting it off to let her red hair cascade down like a fiery waterfall. She didn't try to stop him, didn't protest. She just wanted to know.

"How?"

He smiled. "You're worried that nobody knows _you_, right? That everyone sees Pyrrha Nikos the celebrity, instead of just Pyrrha Nikos. That nobody can relate to you, because they're so busy putting you on a pedestal. That you can never have any friends because they're too busy idolizing you to form a meaningful relationship. That you can't ever build a friendship with anyone, because they're too star-struck to see the real you. That you'll just die one day, alone, with nobody knowing the real you."

Pyrrha's head took another downturn. He was right. He had just listed off all of her fears in less than a full minute. And in that moment, Pyrrha felt something she hadn't experienced ever before.

She felt _vulnerable_.

"What do I do?" she whispered, tone cracking. Desperate for an answer.

"You stop waiting for someone else to come to you."

Her head turned up, confusion etched onto her features.

"What?"

"All this time, you've been waiting for somebody _else_ to make the first move. You've been waiting for someone else to do the work, but the world doesn't work like that. You want friends? Then _YOU_ need to work for it too."

He smiled. "Good things don't always come to those who wait. Sometimes you just have to get up and do it yourself."

"But how?" she began, "I've tried, but everyone in Mistral knows who I am, and put me on a pedestal. Everyone here thinks I'm just too good for them to even bother with"

A shrug. "Who says it has to be in Mistral? There's three other kingdoms full of people. If you can't find someone here, look somewhere else for a while."

'_Somewhere else_?' Could it really be that simple? Granted, he had a point, but Mistral was still her home. Leaving her home wasn't a choice she wanted to make lightly. But maybe…..

"Beacon," she whispered, an epiphany. "I could go to Beacon Academy."

It _was_ one of the most Prestigious Hunter Academies in Remnant. With her record, she could almost certainly get in. The Academy also boasted an extremely varied student body, applicants from the Four Kingdoms and otherwise. All united by their mutual desire to better their skills.

And Beacon in particular accepted nothing but the best. Perhaps it was there where she could finally fit in. A place where she wouldn't just be standing alone in the crowds.

The man smiled. "I know that look. You've just come up with something, haven't you?"

Pyrrha couldn't help but smile back. After all those worries, all those doubts, it was all becoming clear.

She knew what she had to do.

"Yes," she responded, an audible hint of energetic cheer. "I'm sorry but I have to get going."

Immediately jumping to the side, she ran off. Ready to go home for the night and fill out an application for Beacon Academy. For the soon to be newest chapter of her life.

But after only a few running steps, she noticed something off. The wind blowing by, sifting through her long red hair. She had left her sunhat behind.

Her cheeks gaining a light pink hue she made to turn around. "I'm sorry, I've forgotten my-"

He was gone. Not walking away, not going down an alley, just gone. Not even a trace, beside her sunhat lying on the ground. Mysteriously undisturbed, despite the wind blowing.

Slowly, like a deer walking up to a hand holding out some food, she walked towards her hat on the ground, wondering where he had gone. For a moment she almost expected him to jump out of one of the alleys, in some sort of prank, but nothing happened. Not even when she reached down to pick up the sunhat she'd nearly left behind.

Taking a moment to look her hat over, she spotted something tucked into the rim inside. Pulling it out, she realized it was a card of some kind, saying:

**Monyreak "Monty" Oum**

**Web Animation Artist**

If you ever need an ear to talk to, use this card to contact me.

You're friend, Monty

For a few minutes, she just stood in the dark, re-reading those words, looking over the contact information. The words on the card had practically frozen her in place. None more-so than the last.

'_Friend_'

Then, with a bright, grateful smile, she pocketed the card, and walked off, sunhat in her left hand. She had an application to fill out, plans to make, and things to pack. She was going to have a busy week, no doubt. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Walking off, her right hand drifted down into her pocket, running along the edge of the card in her hand, her memories of the day and her new friend filling her mind.

'_Thank you, Monty_.'

…**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO…**

**Sorry for the long wait everyone. My work schedule at Safeway tends to get a little wonky, so when I get home I just can't help but want to relax. Doesn't help that I also have lots of fanfictions or books to read, videogames to play, internet subjects to browse, and shows I wanna watch. I know it's a pretty poor excuse, but once I'm one of those guy's that can't stop something once he gets hooked into it. But I CAN promise you this. When I get started on a fic, I WILL finish it, whether the update waits are long or short. Don't doubt that. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Ren's Concerns, Nora's Doubts**

Chapter 3

oOoOoOoOo Lie Ren oOoOoOoOo

It was a day like any other in the City of Vale, Capital and largest city of the Kingdom of the same name. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the typical sounds of rushing cars and other vehicles permeated the streets. And in a small house by the river separating the Commercial and Residential Districts, there was a conversation between two friends similar to the many they'd had before.

"No Nora," Ren responded lying on the living room couch, smiling slightly at the face on his Scroll, "We can't go down to 31 Flavors so you can have a _31 Sunday's Special_. You know how you get with a brain-freeze. Not to mention what'll happen if you have that much sugar."

Seriously. Nora on a sugar rush was a horror no man should ever have to experience. ESPECIALLY when the man in question was supposed to be keeping her under control. He was still having nightmares about last time.

Nora was still banned from the Zoo, and he wasn't sure if the Zoo caretakers would ever fully recover their sanity. Not to mention the poor traumatized animals. Never underestimate the sheer mania of 'The Valkyrie' on a sugar high.

"But Reeeeeen," Nora whined, "last time was SO MUCH FUN! Come on, you have to admit it was A BLAST! I don't think I've ever seen Zoo animals move so fast before. And it got REALLY fun when the zoo-keepers started to join in on my game of keep-away with the Kangaroos with those big nets. Or when I got to ride around on that Elephant. Oooh, and the Sloth call, I FINALLY LEARNED A SLOTH CALL!"

'Oh crap, she's getting excited' Ren thought, panic steadily growing as Nora's expression quickly became more manic. 'Gotta cut her off somehow, think of something to- AH HA!'

"Well Nora, if you wanna do something today, how about we go to that new movie that just came out?"

Ah, that stopped Nora in her tracks. Her face lost all traces of its growing crazy, becoming a combination of suddenly calm and slightly bewildered. It was, in all honesty, a little strange seeing his oldest friend ever be so calm.

Oh, Dear god. What did it say about him when Ren was starting to find it odd when Nora WASN'T being crazy?

"H-huh?"

Nora's surprised response was enough to break him free from that particular line of thought. Focusing his attention back to her image on his Scroll, Ren continued on his line of chosen conversation. He needed to keep talking while Nora was still calm, otherwise she could start getting crazy again.

"You know the one," he continued, doing his best to keep his tone casual. "That new movie about the guy who gets thrown back to a certain point in the past whenever he dies. I think it was called-"

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!"

Nora's response was made with all the sheer exuberance and energy he had come to expect of her over the years. Not to mention loud enough that he was surprised he didn't hear her windows break over the Scroll.

Then again, it was quite possible her shout of affirmation simply drowned out the sounds of cracking glass. Frankly, Ren was a little surprised he still had his hearing.

If Nora's suddenly embarrassed expression was any indication, she was very aware of her near destruction of his eardrums. "So….we're going to a movie?" Well, she recovered quickly enough.

"Sure," Ren answered. "On me."

"Can we have something to eat first?"

"Sure."

"Can I have snacks in the Theatre too?"

"Long as you don't have too much sugar."

The next thirty seconds was a harrowing experience of 'Where to meet up', 'At what time', and so on. Once done, Ren got up from the couch, getting a pen and some paper to write down a note for his parents. They'd gotten pretty familiar with his rendezvous' with Nora over the years, but no harm in making sure they knew.

After writing the note down and leaving it on the living room table, Ren checked his wallet to make sure he had enough money. Given just how MUCH Nora could eat sometimes, he decided to err on the side of caution and get some more Lien out of his 'cash stash' in his room. Better a little more than not enough.

Preparations complete, Ren headed out the door to meet up with his friend and make the most of the day. So he was rather distressed when things almost immediately took a decidedly unpleasant turn.

On his way down to the rendezvous point to meet up with Nora, he decided to check over his money one more time. Yes, he was probably being paranoid, but for crying out loud Nora was SCARY when she was hungry. So, yeah, he felt justified in checking his wallet to make sure that he had, beyond any doubt, enough money to pay for the food.

So one could imagine how worried he was when almost all of the money he brought with him was caught in a very sudden, not to mention rather strong, gust. Fortunately, Ren was able to hold onto roughly half of his money, jamming it back into his wallet, but the rest was caught in the breeze and started blowing away from him.

Fortunately, the wind itself was rather low along the ground, so would have no difficulty actually catching up to the fluttering bills. Ren may never be able to match Nora in the department of sheer strength, but he was always able to outdo her in speed and agility. A fact he was very grateful for as he dropped into a running stance.

Surprisingly, however, it didn't seem he'd have to worry about the Lien bills getting very far. There was someone else walking down the same sidewalk on the street, and the moment Ren's money was caught in the wind's grasp, he immediately rushed into motion to help. Reaching out his hands, he quickly plucked the Lien dancing in the air, with an ease and efficiency that left Ren a little surprised.

In only a few moments, Ren's stray cash had been collected in the man's hands and combined into a single roll of bills. Walking up to him, Ren's unnamed acquaintance held out the hand with the collected money, palm open.

He was a little taller than Ren, with neatly combed Jet black hair, blue jeans, a dark T-Shirt, and a pair of white dress shoes. His most distinctive feature though, had to be the dark shades over his eyes.

"I'm guessing this is yours?"

Somehow, Ren couldn't help but return the slightly humorous smile. Hey, this gut just saved him a lot of trouble, the least he could do was smile back.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Ren reached out, taking the money and slipping the roll of Lien into his pocket. He wasn't gonna risk trying to put it in his wallet. With breezes like that, you never knew if or when another would come up. "You saved my hide there. I can't really afford to lose any cash with my plans today."

The man raised a brow in an expression of curiosity. "Going on a date?"

Ren's own eyebrow rose slightly at that. Is that really what it looked like? He'd had these sudden outings with Nora so many times, he wasn't really sure if they counted. He always figured them to be a bit more platonic, actually.

Then again, Nora had been acting a little differently around him in recent years. _Could_ she be interested? Ren wouldn't exactly oppose the idea, but if Nora really _was_ interested, he thought it would be better for her to make the first move.

"I'm not sure if you could call it that," Ren responded, continuing along the sidewalk with the stranger following alongside him. "My friend Nora and I just sometimes meet up like this. We're going to see a movie today, after meeting up for something to eat."

"THAT much money for lunch and a movie?" Ren didn't even need to try to hear the astonishment in the man's voice.

"You've never had to experience a hungry Nora Valkyrie." Ren's response was delivered with all the seriousness and weight of a Judge passing a sentence.

The man merely responded with a shrug, conceding to Ren's point. In the following walk, they happened to strike up a conversation. There weren't many meaningful topics, so it was mostly introductory stuff. Names, hobbies, opinions on recent occurrences, etc.

The man's name was Monty, he was from out of town and came to see an old friend, he worked in computer animation, and his hobbies were practicing various arts. He apparently had a very broad and varied definition of what qualified as art, even considering various sciences to be an extension of them.

"In my opinion, art isn't just about painting or sculpting. Art, real art, is anything that can be an extension of our own minds and imaginations. Something that stretches our own opinions of what's possible, giving us a new horizon to surpass and make our imagination a reality. Therefore, science and art are the same thing. They both expand our minds to possibilities we never would have considered before."

It couldn't be clearer that Monty was extremely passionate about his work. Somehow, though, he was able to convey his point and opinion in a way that didn't really count as bragging or conceit. There was just an honest drive and passion that, in all honesty, Ren couldn't help but slightly admire.

Monty's expression suddenly became a little sheepish when he finished talking, a slight flush of embarrassment becoming prominent.

"Sorry about that, I can get a little carried away sometimes. Hope I didn't sound like I was giving a lecture."

"Not at all," Ren responded, smiling slightly. "Honestly, it's kinda interesting. You've given me something to think about, at least."

Monty's only response was another shrug of his shoulders. Another thing Ren noticed was that he was surprisingly humble. He hadn't exactly met many artists in his life, but one thing he noticed was that they often tended to be rather prideful and egotistical, so Monty's quiet and laid back attitude was a welcome difference.

"Well, I think that's enough about me. Why don't we talk about you for a bit?"

'_Me?_'

Ren wasn't really sure how to respond to that. In his experience, people tended to be more interested in talking about themselves, and besides Nora, nobody ever showed any particular interest in him before. If it were anyone else, Ren would have thought they would ask the question simply to be polite, but he didn't get that feeling from Monty. His interest seemed quite genuine, or at the very least, he was a VERY good actor (which, given his opinion that acting counted as another form of art, was actually quite possible).

After thinking for a few seconds on a good subject, Ren decided to go for the most potentially interesting one.

"I told you about me being a Huntsman-in-Training, right?" Monty's response was a quick nod of affirmation. "Well, when I'm done, I'll be applying to Beacon with my friend Nora, to finish my training, and become a full-fledged Huntsman."

Monty seemed to think over Ren's answer for a moment, letting it settle in his mind. He seemed to be thinking furiously over something.

So his next choice of words came as something of a surprise.

"Is that what you WANT, though?"

Ren stopped walking mid-step, almost stumbling from the incomplete balance that came from suddenly standing on only one foot. Given the very nature of Monty's question, it wasn't all that surprising.

'_How did he-_'

"How did I figure it out?" Oh come on. Now Monty could read minds? What the hell!? "No, I can't read minds. But I _am_ very good at reading people's expressions."

Ren regained his stable footing quickly, looking back at Monty with a purposefully blank look. He was also trying _VERY_ hard to keep his mind just as blank. Monty may have said he couldn't read minds, but at this point, Ren wasn't sure if he believed him.

Yes, he was being a little paranoid. Why do you ask?

After spending a few minutes staring at Monty's smiling face, the blank expression dropped, and Ren couldn't hold back a sigh. Continuing along to meet up with Nora, he wasn't surprised to hear Monty walking along too.

"It's not exactly something I like talking about," Ren spoke out. "There's….not exactly _a lot_ of pressure on me to become a Huntsman, but it's still there. People in my family are taught to fight from an early age, we always have. It's a tradition from before the Great War. So, naturally, there's often pressure on us to take those skills to the next level and become Humanity's protectors."

"But you're not sure if that's what you want." Monty's response wasn't a question. "Is there something _else_ you'd like to do with your life?"

Good question. Was there?

"I don't know," Ren retorted. "It's just….I feel like it's been decided for me somehow. Like the only choice I could make is the one that's been laid out in front of me. I mean, becoming a Huntsman is practically an expectation of anyone who can fight, so wouldn't it also be expected of me, too."

"That's all up to you."

Fortunately, Ren didn't come close to actually stumbling this time. He just stopped walking entirely, looking back and slightly up towards Monty's face.

"Up to…..me?"

"Yeah," Monty's response was surprisingly serious, considering how joking and lighthearted he'd been before now. "You're saying it's expected of you, right? But what you should really be thinking is if you'd regret it. Who and what you become, who and what you are, is _your_ choice, nobody else's. So ask yourself, even without all the expectations, would you be choosing anything different? Would you regret it, if you chose to be a Huntsman, regardless of anything else?"

Now for that, Ren had only one answer.

"No," his response was firm and without hesitation. "I'll admit, I don't like feeling like my life is already decided for me, but this is still my choice. Regardless of anything else, I wouldn't have it any other way."

There was no doubt in his tone. No worries or concerns. He'd made his choice a long time ago, and he wasn't going to back out.

Monty, at least, seemed to appreciate the answer. At least, if his returning smile was any indication.

"Feeling better now?"

Actually….

"Yeah," Ren answered. "I kinda do now. It's….nice to get that off my chest."

"It's what I do," Monty responded with a smile. "You'd be surprised how often people open up to me like that."

"Not really," Ren joked. "I suppose you're just that persistent when it comes to pestering people for their deepest, darkest secrets."

Monty brought his hand up to his heart, feigning an expression of pain. "Ouch, my fragile pride."

They shared a laugh at that before continuing on their way. Once Ren reached the point where he would meet up with Nora, Ren looked around to find her. Given Nora's usual outfit and ginger-colored hair, she was pretty easy to spot. It took only a moment to find her with…..someone who looked like Monty's own clone, walking along with her before diverging from her path and heading down a nearby alley. Her laughter stopped when she saw him though, especially when she saw who Ren had following by his side.

At the same time as Nora looked down the alley _her_ Monty had retreated into, Ren looked to his right to check that his own Monty was still there and….nothing.

There wasn't even a trace of him. What the hell?

He looked back at Nora to discover _her_ Monty seemed to have disappeared too, if the look on her face was any indication.

Overcoming the surrealism of the moment, he and Nora started moving towards each other, their expressions practically mirroring the others confusion.

"Um, Ren," Nora's usually cheerful, borderline crazy tone matched the confusion on her face. "What just happened?"

"I…have no idea."

They stood silently for a moment, trying to puzzle out exactly what had happened. Then, Nora asked a question to break the awkward silence.

"Did your guy say he was Monyreak too?"

"Monyreak…." Ren pondered on that for a moment. "No, just Monty. Maybe they were brothers, or something."

Nora's expression regained its usual energy at that suggestion. "Ooh, like twins maybe. That'd be SO cool. A pair of twin brothers, going around town, helping random people. Oh, or maybe they aren't brothers, but a pair of benevolent spirits, or something. That'd be even cooler!"

And just like that, Ren's confusion was blown away by the whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm that was Nora Valkyrie.

After calming her down (somewhat), he led her to one of their favorite diner's nearby, ready to enjoy their day together. With Nora shuffling just a _little_ closer than usual today.

oOoOoOoOo Nora Valkyrie oOoOoOoOo

"Yay, this is gonna be so much FUN!"

Lunch, movie, Ren, it was all practically a date.

Nora's mind started slightly at that. 'No, no, no. Not a date. They weren't really together. Well, alright, they were kinda together, but that's because they were best friends, and had known each other since _forever_, but not _together _-together. Right.

'Argghh, stop thinking about that, you lousy brain. Focus on the FUN!'

And focus she did. Or at least the closest Nora could get to focusing without straining her brain too much. Ren said it would be his treat, but Nora decided to bring some money along anyway. Nora Valkyrie was many things, many of the involving variations of crazy or energetic, but she was definitely not a moocher.

Money found, she didn't bother leaving a note. Her parents had become very familiar of her habits over the years, particularly involving Ren. So, without further ado, she rushed straight out the door, barely taking the time to make sure it was locked.

She lived quite a bit further away from their designated rendezvous point, so Nora felt justified in her running along. Besides she was so excited at the moment that someone would have to weigh her down somehow to _keep_ her from running. She was going to a movie with Ren, how could she not be excited?

In fact, she was moving so fast that she barely noticed when she nearly ran somebody over just a few blocks from the rendezvous point. He was a tall guy, slightly taller than Ren. Dressed in a dark T-Shirt, blue jeans, white dress shoes, and neatly combed black hair, and-

'Oooh, nice shades.'

Fortunately, the man in question was able to dodge out of the way, not even losing his balance when she almost rushed past him, only to suddenly stop and make sure he was okay. Yeah, Nora was very excited, but that was no excuse for possibly hurting someone.

"I'm sosososososo sorry about that! I'm just so excited, and I'm kinda in a rushandIdidn'tseeyo-"

"Whoa, whoa, it's alright. You can stop speed-talking now."

'Speed-talking?'

It took Nora a moment to fully grasp what he said. When Nora's brain went into overdrive, even she tended to lose track of what she was doing.

"Oh," she sighed out. "Reeeaaallly sorry about that. It's just that I thought you could be hurt, so I was worried and, and, and…." Wait a second.

"And what?"

"And," Nora began, surprisingly slow and deliberate, considering her former energy. "And you sound just like my friend Ren." Her eyes narrowed slightly, looking the stranger over. "Seriously, you sound _just_ like him."

The man's expression took on a look of genuine surprise. "Really, just like him huh?" Then his face took on a distinct expression of mischief. "Maybe he's a secret long lost sibling of mine. My parent were _mostly_ ambiguous about whether or not I was adopted."

Long lost sibling? REALLY!?

"Are you serious? Ren with a long lost brother, that'd be so AWESOME! Like something out of the cheesy shows my mom is always watching, except….you know without the cheesy."

They both got a few chuckles out of that.

So with situation cleared up, Nora continued along her way. She had already covered most of the distance to the meet-up point, so there was no reason to rush now. Of course, when her new friend followed along it just got better.

His name was Monyreak, and he came into town to meet up with an old friend. Kinda like her. Well, except for the outta town thing, and not seeing his friend for a long time and….okay maybe not really like her.

That said, he was good company. He was able to keep up with her enthusiastic conversing rather easily, no mean feat all things considered. He didn't speak up too much himself, though. Maybe he was shy or something? Or was she just talking too much? Would he tell her if she was talking too much, or would he not because it was rude?

Sometimes, Nora tended to forget that other, not so enthusiastic people had a hard time keeping up with her. Hell, sometimes even _Nora_ couldn't keep up with Nora. Wasn't that weird?

Regardless, by the time she was done talking, Monyreak had probably become familiar with her whole life story. She'd even told him all about how she and Ren would be applying to Beacon Academy at the end of the year.

"So, you're meeting up with your friend Ren, huh? Going on a date?"

Nora couldn't hold back her blush at that. She and Ren weren't together. Well not _that_ kind of together anyway.

Or, at the very least, Ren didn't see things that way. Granted, he was pretty good at hiding how he felt about things, so she couldn't be entirely sure. Maybe he was, but he was scared or something? Scared of what?

'_No, that's not the point._'

"I don't really know if it's a date." Nora's response was surprisingly subdued.

"How so? No offense, but I can kinda tell that's how you'd _like_ it to be" Monyreak's own response was slightly subdued too, though still curious.

"Well, I just don't know if Ren is really interested or not. I mean, it'd be nice if he was, but…." Nora struggled to find the right words. "But things are gonna change for the both of us soon, and I think us being _together _-together would be changing too many things too fast. A relationship upgrade like that is a BIG thing, y'know, and I don't want to make things awkward, because we've been best friends for so long, and….and I'd hate to just end up ruining that."

"Especially since you'll both be going to Beacon soon, and there's no guarantee you'll be able to stay together, whether or not you're _together_-together?"

Nora flinched at that. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but no less real. There really was a good chance they wouldn't even be on the same team.

"Yeah." Nora answered, her tone slightly wavering. "That's right."

They continued on their way for a bit, just walking along in silence.

At least until Monyreak decided to break the ice.

"So, is that how you're gonna leave it?"

'_Huh?_'

"What are you talking about?"

Monyreak just looked at her for a moment. Not just a glance, but _really_ looked at her. Like he was staring into her soul somehow. Weird.

"I'm asking if you really just want to leave things like that. Yeah, going to Beacon is a big change. Being assigned on different teams would be difficult too. But it's nothing you can't work through. If you want something, then make no mistake, you _NEED_ to work for it. Using changes or risks as an excuse to put it off just means you'll never be able to get it."

"It's not an excuse," Nora retorted, thou even to her it sounded a little hollow.

"Then why aren't you working for it? Are you scared he doesn't feel the same? Or maybe that if he does, it won't go anywhere because of circumstances?"

Nora froze on the spot. It was one thing to think something, safely in your own head, and something else entirely for somebody else to say it to your face. It actually kinda hurt a little. Her response made it clear.

"Yes." Her tone was low. Probably lower than even her own parents had ever heard. Maybe even Ren. The fact was, Nora Valkyrie was scared.

"There's no shame in admitting that," Monyreak assured her, his voice light. "It's natural to be afraid of things. Losing something, someone. But it's up to us whether we put in the effort to keep them, or let them go. So let me ask. _Do you_ want to keep Ren?"

Once again, Nora took her time to find an answer. It should've been obvious, really, but she wanted to make her words right. Beyond any shadow of a doubt.

"More than anything."

Monyreak smiled. "Then there's your answer."

And just like that, Nora's mood and the atmosphere between the two of the brightened again. Continuing on their way, they just passed the time with a few jokes, trading laughs and chuckles. Monyreak knew some pretty good ones.

Eventually, Nora reached her destination, and Monyreak split off from her, walking down a nearby alley. Still laughing from his last joke, Nora looked around and spotted Ren….with Monyreak on his right? '_What the_?'

Then, acting with a sync they'd developed over the years, she and Ren turned to their specific companion's last position, Nora looking down the alley Monyreak had headed into, only seeing….nothing. Nothing at all. Not the slightest trace. Looking back to Ren, she noticed his particular Monyreak had disappeared too.

After a few moment of confused stillness, they walked towards each other, mirroring the others confounded look. It was, unsurprisingly, Nora who broke the silence.

"Um, Ren?" She didn't bother hiding the confusion in her voice, "What just happened?"

"I…." Ren stopped, as if sifting through his mind for the words, before just giving up. "Have no idea."

Another moment of silence descended between them, wondering just what the hell happened. Nora never liked silence, so it was hardly surprising when she, yet again, broke it.

"Did your guy say he was Monyreak too?"

"Monyreak…." Ren responded, mulling it over. "No, just Monty. Maybe they were brothers, or something."

'_TWINS!?_'

As the thought sifted through her mind, Nora's brain started working at its usual pace again. At roughly 2.5 times the speed of the average human brain, to be exact. She checked. Don't ask how.

"Ooh, like twins maybe. That'd be SO cool. A pair of twin brothers, going around town, helping random people. Oh, or maybe they aren't brothers, but a pair of benevolent spirits, or something. That'd be even cooler!"

And, just like that their dynamic was back to normal. Nora, the perpetually enthusiastic brawler girl, and Ren, the ever calm and collected Martial Artist.

As they headed off to their usual diner, Nora couldn't help but shuffle a _little_ closer to Ren that she usually did. They weren't _together_-together, not yet anyway.

But, things changed after all.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**HELLO DEAR READERS. SURPRISED I MANAGED TO GET THIS CHAPTER OUT SO EARLY, BECAUSE SO AM I. I HAD MORE FREE TIME FOR THE PAST FEW DAYS, SO I WAS ABLE TO FINISH THIS MUCH MORE QUICKLY THAN I EXPECTED. NOW, I'M GUESSING YOU'RE CURIOUS WHY I DECIDED TO MAKE A TWO CHARACTER CHAPTER THIS TIME INSTEAD OF JUST GIVING REN AND NORA THEIR OWN RESPECTIVE CHAPTERS, RIGHT? WELL, THEY BOTH HAVE SUCH A STRONG RELATIONSHIP IN CANON THAT I THOUGHT IT WOULD KINDA BE A POINT AGAINST THEM IF I DID THAT, SO I FIGURED IT WOULD BE BETTER IF I HAD THIS CHAPTER REVOLVE AROUND BOTH OF THEM. BESIDES, THAT PART WHERE THEY BOTH MET UP AT THE END OF THEIR RESPECTIVE INTERLUDES WAS A GOOD SPOT TO FURTHER IMPLY EXACTLY WHO AND WHAT MONTY REALLY IS INTHIS FANFICTION. I'M PRETTY SURE SOME OF YOU HAVE PROBABLY FIGURED IT OUT, BUT IF YOU HAVEN'T, I'LL BE MAKING ANOTHER, SINGLE CHAPTER FANFICTION AFTER THIS ONE EXPLAINING HIS STATUS IN GREATER DETAIL. TILL THEN, I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER, AND LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT ONE.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ruby's Hesitation**

Chapter 4

oOoOoOoOo

It was a night like many other nights that had passed in Vale. The cold air gently swirling in the light breeze, the lights shining against the encroaching darkness, the sound of a few cars or motorcycles whizzing by on the streets. Yes, the same _normal_ atmosphere and sounds people would experience on any other night.

So normal, in fact, that one could almost forget there had been a rather nasty attempted robbery at a small shop named _From Dust Till Dawn_. A robbery that was thwarted by a certain young girl, walking along the sidewalk back home, muttering under her breath.

"Well, that was….something."

'_Something? SOMETHING!? Today has practically turned my world upside-down and that's all I can say!?_'

In the span of less than a full hours, things had completely changed. After stopping a robbery committed by a wanted criminal she was brought down to the police station for questioning –well, more like an interrogation- and then she was given an offer to attend Beacon 2 full years early by Headmaster Ozpin himself. Apparently, her skills had impressed him so much, he didn't believe another two years of preparation at Signal would be necessary. This wasn't something small, it was supposed to be a dream come true.

"So why are my legs shaking," she whispered. Glancing down, she could see that the shaking still hadn't stopped, not since she left the Police Station to head on home for the night. And no matter how she tried to frame it, she knew why.

She was afraid. Afraid to leave behind so much of what she knew. Her friends at Signal, her dad Taiyang, her Uncle Qrow, her classes and hangouts, all of it. Okay, so it wasn't like she couldn't come by to visit, but it felt like a whole chapter of her life was closing too early. Two whole years too early.

Plus, besides Yang, shed be all alone up at Beacon. All of her friends would still have two years left to finish at Signal, and by the time they'd graduate, she'd already be in another team. Plus, there was the possibility of resentment towards her for leaving them behind.

Not to mention the resentment she'd probably encounter up at Beacon academy anyway. The students there were supposed to be the best, so how would they take it if some kid, two years their junior, suddenly came in and disrupted the dynamic. Some _KID_ who showed them up by getting the Headmaster's personal attention before she was even supposed to be ready?

Oh yeah. _That_ would go over well. She could imagine it now. Her, walking through the halls, hearing the other students whisper behind her back. Heck, she could even hear the whispers.

'_What the hell? Why'd she get to come here so early?_'

'_Teachers pet._'

'_Little brat thinks she's soo cool._'

'_What makes her so much better than us_?'

All these questions and more bounced around inside her mind, the voices tones ranging from outraged to insulted. Ruby was so preoccupied, she barely even paid attention to where she was walking.

….A lack of attention that led to her bumping right into a complete stranger as she turned around a corner.

Letting out a brief 'oof' as she fell to the ground, Ruby looked up at the person she accidentally collided with. He was a pretty tall guy, with bleach-blond hair, a white button up-shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of black sneakers.

He was also smiling slightly, though she was too embarrassed to really notice it. So, more than a little flustered, she proceeded to try and salvage the situation the only way she knew how.

A quick apology followed by rapid-fire explanation.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't see you there. I was just heading home, and it was a pretty hectic night, and I had a lot on my mind. I just didn't notice you thee- not that you aren't noticeable, you're very noticeable- in a good way, not a bad way, and, uh, uh…."

Yeah, Ruby wasn't exactly very good when it came to damage control. After a while, she just started blubbering, followed by launching into tangents that were simply off topic, then followed by pulling up the hood on her cloak to try and keep from embarrassing herself even further.

….Whiiiich, she did just now.

'_Great,_' she thought, bitter and more than a little sullen. '_What a PERFECT way to end all this tonight._'

For a moment, Ruby honestly wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear. At least then she wouldn't need to worry about embarrassing herself anymore.

At least, that's what she thought before hearing the laughter coming from him. Yes, laughter. Humorous, even playful in its tone.

Looking up, the man just had a smile on his face. Open, friendly. Apparently, her little collision had done nothing to ruin his mood. In fact, it looked like her embarrassment had actually _helped_ his humor a little.

'_Can't believe I'm saying this,_' she thought. _ 'But, YAY for embarrassment._'

Then she met his eyes, and started laughing along with him. Just like a bit of humor between friends, having a friendly laugh at someone's expense. Nothing mean, just funny.

It felt good, actually. Just letting her laughter roll out, taking all of her worries and concerns with her. Like there was really nothing to doubt, nothing to be scared of. Guess she really needed a good laugh, all things considered.

"Sorry about that," the man stated, looking down at her with a hand extended. "I just couldn't help myself. You look kinda adorable like that."

Ruby's blush suddenly got a little fiercer. Sure, Yang and her dad both called her adorable, but they were family, so it didn't count. She wasn't really sure what she thought about it. Yeah, it was friendly, but it made her feel like they thought she was still a little girl. Reaching out to his hand, Ruby quickly got back up to her feet, doing the best to salvage the pieces of her dignity.

Unfortunately…

"I'm not adorable," she sternly stated, standing ramrod straight with her arms crossed and eyes closed for emphasis. "I'm _youthfully mature_"

…Her idea of dismissing the accusation actually just proved it even truer.

Silence reigned between them after her proclamation. Neither quite sure how to progress this odd meeting. After a moment, Ruby opened her eyes, curios to see his reaction. The smile from before hadn't even lessened due to her proclamation at all. In fact, it looked like his smile had _grown_ a little.

"You realize you're kinda proving my point, right?"

'_Proving his….ooohhhhh_'

Ruby's posture slumped a little. After all the effort she put into looking mature, all she did was make herself like even more of a child. Tonight just really wasn't working out for her.

And then…..her stomach started growling. Great, so on top of everything else, now she was starting to get hungry. Plus, since Dad was out on a mission, she'd have to make dinner herself tonight, since she was _SO_ not in the mood to let Yank into the kitchen tonight. It's not that her big sister was a bad cook, but the food she made was always so _spicy_. Like, _REALLY_ spicy. As in, condensed and concentrated fires of the sun kind of spicy.

Of course, she'd never actually told Yang about that. She knew what would happen if Yang found out, and it would result in some kind of competition to see just how hot she could make her food. So, Ruby always just drank a lot of milk with dinner whenever Yang was cooking. Her food was actually pretty good when you got over the sensation of third-degree burns scorching the inside of your mouth.

"Getting hungry?" The man in front of her asked, quickly getting her attention. "If you want something to eat, I know a good place. Bill's on me."

'_Something to eat_?' she thought. Food that wouldn't scorch the inside of her mouth? Something where she wouldn't need to drink down nearly a whole carton of milk to keep from breathing fire? '_YES, PLEASE!_'

Still, she couldn't get too excited. She was supposed to be acting mature, after all. She was fifteen, so she couldn't really act like a little kid anymore. Not to mention the possibility of such behavior annoying other people at wherever they were going. She needed to act her age.

…Still, she was _juuuuust _fifteen, sooo….

Pushing her luck maybe a little bit, she asked, "Does it have cookies?"

oOoOoOoOo

"I thought you said they had cookies," Ruby muttered, holding some weird empty shell of dough in her right hand. How the hell (pardon her language) could this laughable thing possibly be called a cookie? There was no cinnamon, there weren't any chocolate chips, for crying out loud, it didn't even look like it had any sugar! This was _BLASPHEMY_!

They were currently seated in a small noodle stand called _A Simple Wok_, Monty sitting a seat over from her on the right_. _Apparently, the owner wasn't able to show up tonight, so he had someone else manning it, one of Monty's friends. Some guy named Kerry…..Shawkress or something? Monty had introduced himself on the way over, before they sat down and she ordered these…._cookies_, as a brief appetizer.

"I did," Monty responded, sitting right next to her. He still had that same smile on his face, a weird combination of humorous, mischievous and friendly. "It's called a fortune cookie. You crack it open, find a fortune, and see if it comes true. Try it."

Still feeling a little glum at the (apparent) deception, Ruby cracked open the cookie to take a look. After all, it's not like she had much else to do right now. They'd already made their orders.

"Let's see," Ruby looked over the small slip of paper, "it says 'Be wary this year. Great danger is coming your way'." Ruby's expression morphed to a look of incredulity. Great, so now a _piece of paper_ was giving her bad news? This just wasn't her night.

"Better watch your back." Monty warned, his tone low and dire.

Ruby turned to look at him, slightly surprised at his serious tone. "It's just a random fortune on some piece of paper." Monty turned to stare directly into Ruby's eyes, pinning her with his gaze as he solemnly told a message of his own.

"Never doubt the cookie."

The two new friends just looked at each other silently for a moment, their faces strained as they did their best to hold back the oncoming laughter. They were only able to hold it all back for roughly ten seconds, by that point it was a lost cause and they started laughing uncontrollably.

By the time the laughter had died down, their orders had arrived. Ruby had ordered a plate of fried noodles with garlic and shrimp, while Monty ordered a bowl of miso ramen with tofu and braised pork. Ruby had never really seen any Ramen besides the packaged stuff, so the freshly made stuff Monty had ordered came as something of a surprise. Still, her interest only lasted a moment before she split her chopsticks and started digging into her food with a ravenous enthusiasm.

"Wow," Ruby sighed out in appreciation. "This is _really_ good."

"Didn't I tell you so?" Monty playfully asked. "This place has the best noodles in town. Don't tell me you didn't believe me?"

Ruby put her chopsticks down and adopted a mock thinking pose, her right arm held low as it cupped the elbow of her left arm, the hand travelling up to hold her chin as her face gained a look of contemplation. "Well, maybe just a little," she admitted, before going back to normal and resuming her speed-eating.

In response to her little act, Monty decided to play a shenanigan of his own, recoiling in a show of pain as he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh, madam, you wound me." It might have been a little more convincing, though, if he didn't have a smile on the whole time.

Ruby suppressed a laugh. This whole thing was a little weird. Not in a bad way, mind you, but it was still a little strange, particularly regarding how easy her interactions with this guy were.

There was a reason Ruby preferred to avoid interacting with people. She just didn't _get_ them. She had trouble getting sarcasm, a lot of people didn't share her interests (which made no sense to her), she had difficulty keeping up with other people's conversations, and there were SO many details and little things involved with just talking to other people that she just didn't understand. Books, fighting Grimm, and taking care of her Crescent Rose were all so much easier.

But what struck her as weird right now, was that she had _none_ of those problems here, while just interacting with Monty. She knew when he was joking, she could keep up, and she was actually having fun with him. It was….a huge relief from everything that had happened tonight.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"For what?" Monty asked, curious. '_Wow_', Ruby thought, '_Good hearing_.'

"For tonight," she answered, finishing off the last remaining scraps of her food. With her meal gone, Ruby put down her chopsticks, trying to find the right words.

"Tonight's been really….hectic," wow, she was _really_ into the understatements tonight. That didn't even begin to cover it. "Long story short, I impressed somebody really important, and…well. He wants me to attend Beacon Academy."

That got Monty's attention. His eyebrows practically shot up into his hairline, and she was pretty sure his eyes had widened a little from the surprise.

"Beacon?" He asked. "As in, Beacon Academy?" Ruby nodded slightly in affirmation. "The premier Hunter training facility of the Kingdom of Vale? A place where the best from _all four Kingdoms and beyond_ come here, specifically to attend? _THAT_ Beacon Academy?"

Wow, if Ruby didn't know better, she'd have thought he was actually _trying_ to make her shrink into herself from sheer nervousness. She barely mustered the strength to let out a strained yes that would've sounded more appropriate coming from a mouse.

"Well, what's the problem then?" Monty asked. "I mean, getting invited to Beacon Academy is a big step for anybody, and you're getting in two years early. Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"

"It is," Ruby responded, sounding not quite convinced. "Except…..well," she hesitated. Jeez, put her in the middle of a swarm of Grimm and she couldn't be calmer, but when trying to just talk to someone she froze up. Ruby _really_ wasn't good with people, something she was becoming more familiar with now.

'_Dammit_,' she thought. And this had been going so well, too.

Then, Monty surprised her, yet again.

"You're scared," he stated, stirring Ruby from her despondent mood. "You're worried about what you'll be leaving behind. You're worried you might not be ready. But most of all…."

Monty got up from his seat, walking over until he was right by her side. Standing beside her, he reached out a hand, placing it on her shoulder in an unmistakable gesture of support.

"You're scared of what might happen. Will you lose something? Someone? That it'll be like stumbling in the dark, not even knowing where you're going? Or maybe all of the above."

Ruby sank into her seat, followed by almost shrinking into her hooded cloak. He got it exactly right. She _WAS_ scared. Maybe if she finished her time at Signal first, or she had some idea of what came next, but she didn't. She was being pushed into something completely new and it terrified her.

"Still," he continued, "Hard as it might be to believe, you're not the only person to feel like that."

Ruby stopped retracting into her cloak, pulled out of her dark thoughts by his words. Did he really mean that?

Slowly, she relaxed, letting her body grow back out from the ball she had been so determined to shape herself into mere moments ago.

"Was it like that for you too?" she asked. Her tone small, hopeful for an answer.

"Oh yeah," he admitted, a sheepish smile on his face as his free hand rubbed the back of his head. A sign of embarrassment, something Ruby honestly hadn't expected from him. He'd been so confident before, after all. "Teenage years are a _serious_ pain in the ass. So many new things getting shoved into your life, and now you're old enough to actually feel pressure over it."

He took his left hand off her shoulder, sitting down into the seat next to her before turning to look her in the eye. His expression was much more serious than before, but not entirely unfriendly, just looking more stern. '_Kinda like Dad_'

"It's never easy," he said, "but years like these are something we all go through. Something we've all gotta do. It's part of growing up."

Monty turned away for a moment, just looking off into the distance. Ruby was a little curious about just what he was thinking. Was he thinking about his own past? Everything he went through to become who he was now?

After his brief moment of contemplation, he turned back to her. He seemed tired somehow, but…..content, too. Like he had no regrets. For a moment, Ruby wondered if she'd have that same look on her own face at his age.

"Growth is awkward," he said, his voice carrying a tone of experience that _definitely_ reminded her of dad. "In retrospect, kind of embarrassing. Hardly appreciated for its difficulty, regardless of importance, but in the end, ultimately necessary."

He turned to her, his eyes holding a glint of challenge as he spoke.

"You have to _believe_ that something good will happen. That you can _make_ it happen, or you'll be stuck forever. You can't let a little fear hold you back."

He rose up, standing at his full height right beside her as he stared into her eyes. Ruby had never been very tall, in fact she was a little on the short side. Given that she was sitting down while Monty stood straight up, he seemed to tower over her, like a redwood over a palm tree.

"He who says he _can_, and he who says he _can't_, are both usually right. Not by some divine will, but because of what they, themselves, believe. What they _choose_."

Slowly, he brought his head down to her level, face to face. Staring into her eyes, pinning her with his unwavering gaze.

"So, what's your choice?"

Ruby was silent. Her choice? Before all this, she honestly wasn't sure. She was so scared, so unsure. But not anymore. Not after this, not after seeing that challenging glimmer in his eye when he asked what she would do.

She knew what her choice was.

"I'm going to Beacon," she answered, smiling. "What else can I do, right? You said it yourself." She rose up from her seat, standing up to her own full height. "It's never easy, but we've all gotta do it. Otherwise….we'll never get anywhere."

Monty smiled. "Good choice of words."

After spending a moment to pay the bill, the two of them parted ways. Granted, most of the moment in question had been Ruby arguing to help pay. Yeah, Monty said he'd pay, but that was before he'd helped her get her confidence back. It didn't really feel right to have him pay for their food after all his help. Fortunately, she managed to sway him with liberal use of her most dangerous and terrifying ability.

The sad puppy dog eyes.

Monty gave in after only a few seconds, and Ruby paid the bill with an expression of complete and utter victory. After saying goodbye, Ruby decided to head on home, ready to get a good night's sleep. Monty, meanwhile, chose to stay behind. He said something about helping Kerry unloading supplies into the food stand from an incoming delivery truck.

Walking down the street, Ruby headed on home with a clearer head than she'd had all night long. Not a single one of the worries that had been plaguing her mind. It was amazing what a good talk with someone could do to help another person's confidence.

Then, as her right hand slipped into her pocket, Ruby noticed something amiss. Fishing her hand in a little deeper, Ruby pulled out….a wad of Lien bills. In fact, it looked like enough bills to have….

"_Wait, did he…._"

Turning around, Ruby started running. Monty had somehow slipped all enough money for their collective bill into her pocket before she'd left. Apparently, her sad puppy dog eyes weren't as infallible as she thought. Turning around the corner, she was ready to shout out for him and give him his money back….

….Only for nobody to be there. Just a single, empty food stand closed for the night. Ruby took a moment to look around, trying to find Monty or Kerry, but there wasn't even anyone else on the whole street. In fact, it looked like the stand hadn't even been opened all day, just left alone.

More than a little confused, Ruby turned away, and started walking home again. That was, until she saw a piece of paper nailed to the side of the food stand, flapping in the late night breeze, the writing colored in dark red ink. Walking up to take a look, she couldn't suppress a smile at the message.

**Never be afraid to grow. One step at a time.**

**Yours truly, Monty**

Taking a moment to take don the message, Ruby carefully folded it up before putting it into her pocket. A memento of this night, and the person who helped her.

A person she'd never forget.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Sorry for the long wait folks. I'm moving out of Marin County this month, and I've been busy getting ready. It's just too expensive to stay here anymore on the salary of a Safeway Courtesy Clerk.**

**Anyway, for anybody who was worried, you don't need to worry, I haven't, nor will I, abandon this Fic. There's WAY too many of those on this site already, and I have no intention of adding to the pile. Especially since I've only gotten started.**

**On another note, out of all the FanFics I've thought up, I'd like to share ideas for the first two fics I'll be making once this one (and maybe a small world-building one about Monty's presence) is finished.**

"**The Freeslasher": This fic is a Crossover between Naruto and RWBY. The premise is that Naruto is a Second, maybe Third Year student at Beacon, who's ripping his way through the underworld of the Four Kingdoms at Ozpins discretion to hunt down a vicious criminal that destroyed his old team. If you're wondering about the name, it's based off of an in-universe version of the famous German play, Des Freischutz. Translated to The Freeshooter. Also, it's breaking some new romantic ground because the canon relationship is Naruto and Coco Adel. Seriously, there's only ONE Naruto/RWBY crossover fic with Coco as a love interest.**

"**The Rise of Lazarus": This fic is gonna be **_**VERY**_** loosely based on 'The Games We Play' in execution, but with an OC Protagonist. Not gonna lie, you'll see the similarities to the original story, but I've got plenty of original twists and turns of my own in mind.**

**Okay, that's all for today folks. If you don't mind, please give a review. I'd like to get some input on how this Fic is. A little advice can go a long way towards improvement.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Weiss' Fears**

Chapter 5

oOoOoOoOo

Weiss impatiently tapped her finger on the door-rest of her seat. This was going to be her last performance, and she _really_ wanted to show up on _time_! Her punctuality, her determination to show up on time to any and all endeavors of importance, was something Weiss took great pride in. She'd yet to be late to any appointment or otherwise, and that was a record she had NO intention of breaking.

Obviously, timing wasn't her only concern. She also had to _look_ her best, which was why she had decided to wear the most valuable and beautiful dress in her –admittedly very large- wardrobe. A sleeveless gown, white as snow, tailored with threads so fine that the thread-count was probably higher than the number of hairs on her own head. It also shimmered –yes, _shimmered_\- in the light, the result of weaving crystalline materials into the gown itself. On her arms, she wore long white gloves, pulling up to just beneath her shoulder, and for footwear, she was wearing a pair of high-heeled slippers, made of the highest quality materials.

Topping it all off, was a tiara of pure silver, clear diamonds glittering as the lights passed by them.

Yes, she was determined to leave an impression tonight, and she wanted to look her best while doing it.

…

Of course, tonight was something special. This could be, for all intents and purposes, her final performance. Her last time committing to a hobby, a passion, which she had developed so intently and painstakingly over the years. Ever since that day, years ago, when her mother told her she had such a beautiful voice for singing.

This was something her mother had introduced her to, so long ago. So if this was to be her last concert, she was determined to make it her best. No slip ups, no mistakes, not imperfections, it all had to be _**PERFECT**_! She refused to let all those lessons, all that time she had dedicated for the sake of seeing that smile on her mother's face, be for nothing.

…..Especially because of what she'd be dedicating her life to, after this night was over. Once she left to become a Huntress at Beacon Academy.

She would never admit it. Not to her sister, not to father, not to anyone….but she was scared.

"Ms. Schnee", the driver interrupted, stirring Weiss from her thoughts. "We've arrived".

Stirred from her brief bout of melancholy, Weiss hardened her features into the dignified, graceful mask the world had become so familiar with over the years. Stepping out of the limo, she was greeted by the flashes of countless cameras, and the shouted greetings of the many people held back by the security personnel.

Honestly, this happened _every_ time she came out for a performance. Yes, she was the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, yes she was a very good singer, but the attention got very annoying once the novelty wore off. And Weiss had been dealing with it for years.

Ignoring the cries of the reporters, paparazzi, and other assorted media leeches, Weiss walked calmly into the building through the main entrance.

Upon entering the building, it became clear just how much money her father had put into this concert. She knew, factually, that he'd have chosen the largest and most luxurious singing theatre as a matter of pride. He'd settle for nothing less, given their status as the highest of high society. But _knowing_ something and _experiencing_ it were two completely different things.

And she was certainly _experiencing_ it right now.

The interior of the theatre was the picture of extravagance. A high roof, great chandeliers of glass and glittering silver, lights shining down like the beams of countless stars. Great marble pillars soaring up, vertical grooves carved into the stone, supporting the roof with curved ends, like ram's horns. A floor made entirely of smooth and finely polished marble, a sheen almost like well-oiled metal, covered with rich rugs imported from Vacuo. Each one a masterpiece in its own right, tailored with patterns and embroidered images of great heroes and legends from all over the world. Looking around, she noticed the walls were covered and adorned with the masterworks of the greatest artists of several ages. Sculptures, paintings, adornments of glass and metal so fine they could almost be mistaken for real things, trapped in their artistic forms like a cruel curse.

For a brief moment, Weiss was a little overwhelmed by the scenery, overcome by the majesty, the opulence.

But only for a moment.

Weiss quickly regained her composure, readying herself for the rest of the night. Preparing herself for this last concert….and what would come after.

Looking over the currently sparse collection of people, she quickly recognized a familiar face, just finishing up a conversation with another guest.

Gustav, her singing tutor. An elderly man long hired by Weiss' father not only to teach her, but attend to what would become something of a minor career for her. Organizing her lessons and concerts with every bit of attention to efficiency and timing.

He was a man of slightly over sixty by Weiss' own estimate, though he had aged rather well. Where other people his age would have long lost vigor to their age, Gustav stood tall with his back straight. A face decorated with a mustache cut close, connected to a neatly trimmed beard concealing his chin. With merely by a few choice wrinkles, and hair only beginning to gray, he could have been mistaken for a man roughly ten years his junior. Maybe a little younger even.

"Hello, Gustav," Weiss politely greeted, a ghost of a smile on her face as she walked over. The elderly man was one of her oldest, most long-standing acquaintances. She remembered her first lesson with him, in fact. She was so scared, so worried she'd get the slightest detail wrong, that he would needle her over every mistake and shortcoming. It was what she'd come to expect of her other tutors, at least the ones hired by her father.

So one could only guess her surprise when, after singing one verse off tune, he simply flashed her a friendly smile and said, 'Let's try that again'.

Ever since, the old music tutor had become something of a confidante to her. He was probably the only person to whom she ever spoke of her worries or concerns. Like her increasingly distant relationship with her sister, their father's gradual seclusion in favor of running the company. If he would been a family member, she had to guess Gustav would be somewhere in the 'Favorite Uncle' category.

Gustav turned around at the sound of her voice, flashing a grin as he recognized her. His own response to her greeting was a slight bow, left arm folded behind his back, right arm held in front of his chest.

"Good evening to you Ms. Schnee," he greeted, with all the formality the situation required. While they could enjoy some informality during her lessons, while they were alone and unseen by other eyes, here in public, they were expected to maintain the _proper_ social etiquette.

"So," Weiss began, "what can you tell me about the other guests? I assume everyone worth talking about is here?" It wouldn't really surprise her. A number of influential people attended her concerts, either for the viewing itself, or because they thought it would score them some points with her father. A tactic which assuredly failed, given that her father most certainly _wasn't_ a man to grant favor for something so trivial.

The upward shift of Gustav's smirk was an answer in and of itself, but it seemed he considered a verbal approach necessary regardless.

"Indeed they are," he answered, rising up from his bow. "Celebrities, industrial heads, politicians, several members of the Council of Atlas, even General Ironwood has arrived."

'_Ironwood_?' Weiss thought. Now _that_ was a little surprising. The General was notoriously focused on his work, both in the Elysian military and as the Headmaster of Atlas' most prestigious Hunter Academy. Free time was a distinctly rare luxury for him, so it was a little surprising he'd spend it at one of her concerts.

"Quite the turn-out," she admitted, refusing to let her surprise show. Weiss had expected a significant reception for her last concert, but this was honestly beyond her expectations.

Then again, with all the publicity her father had arranged for this event, maybe it wasn't _too_ surprising. He'd really pulled out all the stops to make this occasion as big as possible. Come to think of it, she couldn't really remember the last time her father had personally gone through so much effort on her behalf.

True, their relationship had become rather distant lately, but….could it have been his manner of a farewell gift? Something to see her off on better terms? His way of wishing her good luck?

The thought almost brought a tear to her eye…almost.

Weiss hummed in interest for a moment, masking her attempt at regaining herself with a not so feigned curiosity. It wouldn't do to even let out a single tear. Not tonight

"Has anything worth noticing happened yet?" she inquired. "I've only arrived recently."

Gustav pondered her question for a moment, mulling it over as his eyes skimmed over the other people in the reception hall.

"Not anything in particular," he answered. "There's just the usual posturing, venomous comments and toothy smiles to show their bared teeth." Gustav's expression sobered at that. "It's rather annoying, really. The thinly-veiled threats and backhanded compliments are such a waste of time."

As much as Weiss wanted to argue with that, to tell him these meetings between such influential and powerful individuals could serve a purpose, she couldn't really deny the point. More often than not, these meetings really were often just an excuse for the rich to show off and try to one-up each other.

"On another note, however," Gustav continued, turning his gaze on her. "Is this really going to be your last performance?"

Ah, now that was a question she was expecting.

"Yes," she answered, doing her best to keep an even tone. "After tonight, I'm going to Beacon Academy to be trained as a Huntress." There was no turning back. She'd made her choice, so she couldn't second guess herself now.

…So _WHY_ was it so hard to sound confident right now!?

Compared to her own inner turmoil however, Gustav's calm was quite genuine. His only noticeable response was a brief sigh and a slight softening in his expression.

"That's too bad really. I'm sure given time, you would be one of your generations finest." There was a genuine sense of loss in his voice, as if he'd lost something important. Given all the years he'd spent tutoring her, maybe he did.

He took a moment to wave off his discomfort, regaining his full composure.

"However", he continued, giving her another bow, "I suppose I can make do as a former tutor of such an excellent Huntress to be."

Rising up from his bow, Gustav turned around and walked off, with some parting words.

"Good luck in your endeavors Weiss Schnee. I'm sure you'll do us all proud."

And just like that, he was gone. Right here, right now, Weiss was alone again. Little more than a stranger in a room full of people. Alone amidst company, like so many times before.

'_I can't stay here_', she thought, walking off while trying to hold back her tears. She didn't care where she was going, all she cared about was getting _away_!

Step after step, she quickly walked her way through the halls, her heels clicking against the floor the whole way. It was a rather large building, but she had learned the layout beforehand. After all, it would be a terrible embarrassment if she ended up lost on the way to her performance. After all, the building was certainly large enough.

Down the hallways her feet carried her, taking Weiss to a destination she didn't even bother to think about, all to just to get away.

Finally, her feet stopped. Turning her face back up, Weiss looked around, observing where her desperate retreat had taken her. Apparently, she stopped on the balcony of a higher floor, the third floor if her distance from the ground was any indication.

All in all, it was a good change of scenery from the entrance hall. It was just feeling so….confining to her. So restrictive and stuffy. Gustav's walking off just made it worse, like her only measure of security in the whole building had just disappeared.

As her thought swarmed within her mind, Weiss just stood quietly. The cool night air blowing against her, the dark skies twinkling with countless tiny nights high overhead. From below, she could hear the reporters and paparazzi shooting pictures of whomever entered, the building, their shouted greetings and questions melding into a barely distinguishable cacophony. In the distance, she heard the sounds of countless cars from the nearby streets, blowing their horns and rushing by, seeing the drive by in large lanes of red and white, like a gigantic circulatory system.

It was such a beautiful night, and she simply didn't care.

She knew from the start that this would likely be her last night in such a performance, that after tonight she would be leaving behind practically everything she ever knew. She knew it…

So why was she so reluctant now? Why was she so scared? She'd already gotten past this dammit! How could she be getting cold feet now!?

But through all the indignation, she knew why. When Gustav said goodbye, walking away from her, likely for the last time….it hit her. Hard.

The realization that wherever she went, she would be alone. Just like she had been in the entrance hall. Alone in a crowd full of people.

"Um, excuse me?"

Weiss started in surprise, not expecting company. Quickly regaining her composure, she turned around, preparing herself to greet whomever found her. She was confident she could recognize whoever it was, she knew most of Atlas' higher class citizens by name.

So, needless to say, Weiss was rather surprised when she turned around to see a face she _didn't_ immediately recognize. Notable, because this man was distinctive enough that she was quite sure anyone would recognize him.

He was tall, for one thing. Standing at roughly six feet, holding a straight posture that spoke of a….quiet dignity. An interesting contrast compared to the almost predatory posture of the other people she had met on occasions such as these. More often than not, they moved about like vultures, waiting to spot a weakness before moving in to pick their unfortunate target apart.

His expression, compared to the previously mentioned _vultures_, was open and friendly. A face that seemed to have been built with an inherent sharpness in mind, was instead curved and rounded, as if to seem more inviting. His dark eyes, twinkling with a friendly mischief, were matched by carefully combed black hair.

His attire was relatively simple, not at all like the overly luxurious choices of the people she passed by in the entrance hall. A matching black suit and pants, the top of a red dress shirt peeking out from the opening of the top two buttons. Dark boots –leather, she realized- covered his feet, extending up to almost mid-calf.

All-in-all, his choice of clothing was a little mundane compared to what she had come across before. Not much really stood out to her. But somehow…somehow he stuck out. He just felt _different_ somehow, from everyone else.

Which, honestly, made the next moment a little embarrassing for her.

"Oh, Ms. Schnee," the man greeted, dipping into a slight bow. "Sorry, I didn't know it was you. Hope you can forgive the intrusion."

Weiss looked down at the man, her face contemplative. He was polite, yes, but something seemed a little off. It took a moment for her to understand exactly what.

Simply put, it was his grammar. His word usage and presentation. He was _speaking_ differently than what she had come to expect from people who attended these gatherings. Everybody spoke with what she had long come to classify as _classical_ politeness and grammar, their every word and sentence placed and arrayed in the traditionally correct pronunciation and placement, like they were living dictionaries.

This guy didn't talk like that, though. He used all the right words but they were…..looser? Less traditional? He wasn't saying anything _incorrectly_, just differently.

Honestly, it was a bit of a welcome change to her.

"Hello," she responded, bowing slightly in return. Looking him in the eye, she couldn't entirely hold back the sheepish undertone of her next words. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know who you are."

Surprisingly, the man didn't seem at all offended. In fact, if the look on his face was any indication, he seemed a little amused.

"I'd be surprised if you did," he happily retorted. "I only got onto the 'upper class' radar pretty recently. In fact, this is your first concert I've been invited to. It's no wonder you've never heard of me."

'_Only recently_,' she thought. That….actually made some sense. Weiss couldn't keep track of every new individual of note in Atlesian society, so that wasn't so surprising. What surprised her was that her father saw fit to give someone so new to high-society, he was notoriously selective when it came to extending contact or handing out special invitations.

"Do you specialize in anything?" she asked, curious. Everyone her father invited to her concerts could generally be sorted into two categories. Firstly, the people with political or economic clout too big to ignore, and secondly, people with talents or resources that could directly benefit him or the SDC somehow. She was a little curious what category this man belonged to.

In response, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet of dark leather. Opening it up, hi fingers fished around inside for a few seconds, looking for something. Finally finding what he sought, he pulled something out, a card of some sort.

Taking a moment to fold his wallet back up and put it in his pocket, he walked towards her, hand grasping the card in his fingers. Stopping a few steps away, his hand extended outward, the card held between his index and middle fingers in an offering gesture.

After a moment of hesitation, Weiss reached out to take the card from his hand. Glancing it over, she noted it to be rather simple as business cards went. Unadorned. To the point. Something of a rarity in a society's upper-class that had a distinct preference for grandstanding and showing off. Perhaps that's why she rather liked this one, its straightforward intent and appearance.

Nonetheless, what perked her interest was the writing on the card itself.

"Monyreak Media Enterprises," she whispered. She'd never heard of this group before. Her confusion must've been obvious, because the man –Monyreak, if the card was any indication- gave her an answer to the question she hadn't yet asked.

"Ever since the Cross Continental Transmit network was put up, whole new world of communication, interaction and art have opened up. That kind of possibility leaves a lot of room open for niche services."

He walked up to the railing beside her, leaning over it to stare off into the distance.

"M.M.E specializes in….a combination of online advertisements, news broadcasts, various forms of computer software and defense, and what I like to call," he paused briefly, holding up his hands to symbolize air quotes with his fingers, "'Web-Animated artistic pursuits'." He lowered his hands. "We've been building up our own little niche in the online market pretty rapidly. Maybe that's why your father's taken an interest."

It was certainly possible. They lived in a digital age, after all. Holding a significant sway over the online network would be advantageous for any large and powerful corporation. Advertising their products, utilizing private corporate channels for secret projects, bolstering their reputations. A significant chunk of the corporate meta-work was making sure people knew about your own products and their advantages before a competitor became better known.

Still….

"Not that this doesn't sound impressive, um….Monyreak, right?" she carefully worded. At his nod of confirmation, she continued. "But I think it would take more than what you've said to perk my father's interest. Much less get an invitation from him."

If anything, Monyreak's grin grew wider. "I thought you'd say that," he responded, reaching into his pocket to pull out his Scroll. Taking a moment to turn it on and press some button displays, he held it up for her to take. "Which is why I prepared this."

Taking a moment to look at the Scroll in his hand, she accepted the offered device. Looking at the displays, she saw what seemed to be a frozen video and a play button. Glancing at him for permission, she received an affirmative nod and played the video.

It took quite a bit to render Weiss Schnee speechless, but that didn't keep it from happening now.

From what she could tell, it was a computer animation movie of some kind. It consisted of a number of women, each with a different outfit, unique abilities, each embodying an entirely different kind of character, fighting each other non-stop. Ordinarily, Weiss wouldn't find such a thing so enthralling, but this was different. It was so _alive_, so _overwhelming_ she couldn't tear her eyes away. The music, the pacing, even the action –something she often didn't bother to recognize- was so incredible that she felt as if it were real and she were watching another world from behind some dimensional window.

She was honestly a little disappointed when it was over, leaving her standing silently on a balcony in the dark night.

Turning back to Monyreak, she handed him his Scroll, her question all but burning the inside of her mouth to get out. "Your company made this?"

Surprising her, Monyreak nodded in the negative. "No, _I_ made it."

Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "Y-you…?" Unfortunately, her eyes weren't the only sign of surprise. Not if the combination of her brief stutter and unnecessary pause was any indication.

She fought hard to fight back her embarrassed blush. It was even harder when she saw his grin.

"Yeah," he answered, "Me." He leaned against the railing again, this time leaning back instead of forward, holding himself up with his elbows. "We already make movies with cameras and film. We make animation with drawings and modified graphics engines. So why not take all the _hardware_ materials out and make it a purely software process. Whole movies and animation series' made completely through software and computer animation. We're doing so much with computers already, right? It's still a new industry with so much untapped potential and marketing, and we're well on our way to getting a big cut of our own."

Now _that_ explained why. It wasn't just advertisements and information, or corporate software protection. What he wanted was to gain a hand in what could potentially be a whole new market. New markets were an ever-coveted rarity in the corporate world, windows to what could be entirely new routes for profit. And this was a very promising one, if what Monyreak had showed her was any indication.

"So," she slowly began, "I'm guessing this is probably the beginning to such a series." And there most certainly wasn't a tinge of hope in her words. No, not at all.

Monyreak looked contemplative. "It could be, but I haven't really thought about it." He held the Scroll up, looking it over. "Honestly, I just made this one as a hobby. I'll probably keep it going, but it might not get out for a while."

Weiss was actually a little disappointed at that. It was so fun to watch, it'd be such a shame if it wasn't finished. Hoping to avoid that line of thought, she decided it would be best to change the subject.

"Do you enjoy your work?" She asked, genuinely curious. "I know you may have made that particular animation on a whim, but do you really find it….fulfilling?"

"Definitely!" He replied, the enthusiasm obvious in his tone as he slightly retreated from the balcony's edge, gesturing his arms with every word. "How could I not? I get to make every dream or image of my imagination into something real. For everyone in the world to experience it. It's like a dream come true."

As Monyreak finished speaking, seeming to visibly relax at the end of his little admission, Weiss couldn't help but feel a little jealous.

"It must be nice," she whispered, "having something you find so fulfilling."

Unfortunately, Monyreak turned out to have much better ears than she thought. Her intentionally low whisper seemed to catch the man's attention, and he slowly turned to her, his expression oddly serious. It was a look quite at odds with what she had gleamed of his personality.

He didn't really say anything, only staring at her, as if waiting for her to continue. Weiss didn't like the silence. It reminded her of all those times when her Father seemed to look her over for any flaws in posture or etiquette, something to criticize and correct.

She was almost grateful when Monyreak broke the silence.

"Don't you have anything like that?" he suddenly asked, still with that strangely serious expression. "I mean…I've heard your singing before. Frankly, you're amazing. I can't imagine you being that good without enjoying it somehow."

Weiss fought back a slight blush. '_Amazing?'_ she thought. Sure, she'd been complimented before, often with praise much more overwhelming than that. But, somehow, Monyreak's seemed different. More sincere. More REAL.

Still, she powered though her brief embarrassment and regained her composure. Idly, she noted that she'd been doing that rather often tonight. Especially around Monyreak. He just seemed to have some ability to cut to the heart of the matter or get her off balance.

"It's not that I don't enjoy it," she began, trying to piece together her own thoughts on the matter. "Or find it fulfilling. I really _do_ love singing like this….but…."

She hesitated to continue. She hadn't told this to _anyone_. Should she really be telling this man she only just met?

Looking over, she tried to analyze him. Looking him over for any sign of discouragement.

She found none. He was just waiting patiently. His face an impartial mask, urging her to continue when she wanted.

That, more than anything, convinced her to continue.

"But I feel like I could do so much more." Her voice gaining firmness she didn't know she had, Weiss stared Monyreak in the eye. "I don't understand why the only thing I should be allowed to do with my life is promote the SDC's interests or agenda. Or my father's vision of it."

She grimaced, thinking of how her father's actions had so changed the original company. He may have done his best to keep her unaware, but that was a difficult course of action when grooming an heiress. Even if that weren't the case, Weiss was far from stupid enough to simply not notice.

She practically spat her next words out.

"It's just so…._pointless_! There are so many other ways –kinder, BETTER ways- to advance this company without dragging our good name through the mud." She held up a hand. "Political lobbying," she extended a finger, "exploitation of minorities," another finger, "backroom deals," yet another finger, "and manipulating employment contracts to the point where our laborers are barely different from _SLAVES_!" That made four fingers total, on a hand she pushed further out for emphasis.

"And that's only what I can think of off the top of my head." She lowered her hand, reigning in the ire she displayed. Few things could make Weiss Schnee express her ire so openly, but the actions of her own father certainly counted.

She whispered, "I want to do _more_ with my life than be judged because of the bad name of my own father. I want this company to do _better_, like when my grandfather was in control." She looked up, her eyes a shocking combination of cold fury and sheer focus. "But most of all, I want to do it on _MY_ terms, _MY_ way, instead of having everything _CHOSEN_ for me. Like I have no right to decide my own life! And of the only way to do that is to become a Huntress, than it a choice _I_'_ll BE PROUD TO MAKE_!"

Weiss' panting filled the silence, taking in great gulps of air to recover from her impassioned shouting. Dimly, she was aware that her father would throw a fit if he saw her so disheveled in public. '_Too bad for him,_' she thought.

With her breath finally calm, Weiss waited for a response. Monyreak apparently had incredible patience, waiting calmly though her tirade with nary a twitch in his posture or expression. For a brief, mad moment, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd be a marvelous Poker player. He certainly had the face down.

Her thoughts were interrupted when his face erupted into another one of those friendly grins she had come to associate with him. Seriously, did he ever run out of those?

"Then it looks like you know what to do," he stated, his sudden words catching her by surprise. "You should be proud, most people don't have something important in mind that early."

'_What?'_

Seeing her questioning expression, Monyreak's grin shrank slightly, somehow looking like a combination of playful and serious.

"You should never let somebody else define how to live your own life. Tell you what _YOU _should consider right or wrong. Or _WHO_ you _WANT_ to be. The world just doesn't work that way."

He pulled himself out of his backwards lean on the railing, walking up to Weiss with a confident stride. Within arm's reach, he extended a hand and rested it upon Weiss' right shoulder.

She didn't recoil or shy away.

"You gotta dig deep down, -deep, DEEP down- and find those answers for yourself. What YOU want, who YOU wanna be, what YOU find fulfilling in life and makes YOU happy."

He pulled back his hand, continuing to walk past her, even as Weiss' eyes continued to follow him. Even as he continued to speak.

"No matter how crazy it may sound to everyone else in the world, it's always YOUR life."

He stopped at the balcony entrance, standing in place for a few seconds, before turning his head her way and flashing one more smile.

"Because every day you aren't living YOUR life, is nothing more than wasting your time. So go out there and start living. You only get to live once."

And with those parting words, he left. Walking past the threshold of the balcony's entrance and disappearing from her sight. Slowly, she heard him walking away, until his footsteps couldn't be heard at all.

"MY life, huh?" She whispered under her breath. Speaking slowly, her tone low, as if tasting the words.

As a smile slowly grew on her face, Weiss realized she rather liked them.

"Ms. Schnee?" someone greeted, startling her. Looking at the balcony entrance, she recognized the young man as a member of the staff. She answered with a nod and he sighed in relief.

"Oh, I've finally found you," he stated. With a closer look, she could see the man was a little disheveled, with a light sheen of sweat on his face. Had he been running?

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her tone a duo of concern and curiosity.

He shook his head side-to-side. "No, but your recital is about to start. Now might be a good time to prepare for your time on stage."

'_Oh,'_ she thought. _'That's why he seems so tired.'_ He must have ran through more a good portion of the building to find her.

"Could you please escort me?" she asked, "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with this particular wing of the Theatre."

He nodded vigorously, "Of course Ms. Schnee. If you'd please follow me."

Turning around, he quickly led her down the halls to the Auditorium, navigating the twists and turns with a practiced ease. He was obviously very familiar with the layout, which became even clearer when he'd led her onto the back stage of the Auditorium.

Taking a moment to smooth out her dress behind the massive curtains, she prepared herself for the performance. For her _LAST_ performance. And she had every intention of making it her best, of pouring her whole soul into it.

She smiled. "After all. What's the point in living if you don't make every moment count?"

As the curtain shifted to show her behind the, Weiss stepped out to the center of the stage.

She couldn't see Monyreak among the many seated people, but that wasn't too surprising. She wasn't really disappointed by that though. Because, somehow, she just _knew_ he was watching her right now.

And so, with doubts gone and her course set, Weiss began to sing. The most beautiful song she knew.

'_Thank you.'_ She thought, as she lost her own thoughts in the song.


	6. Chapter 6

**Blake's Reluctance**

Chapter 6

oOoOoOoOo

It was a dark night in the city of Vale, capital of the same-named Continent. The cold night air stirred from a light breeze, carrying along the sounds of nightly life. Cars running, stray animals meowing or barking, people walking along to head home or drink the night away.

The only illumination came shining down from streetlights and the stars above, lighting up the streets to those who walked them.

It was, in all honesty, nothing new to Blake Belladonna.

Walking with a calm grace befitting the animal whose traits she shared, the young woman marched towards her destination like she always did.

Silently and under cover of darkness.

Travelling by night was practically a necessity in her line of work. Easier to avoid crowds that would slow her down, or anyone who might recognize her somehow from her raids along with the rest of the White Fang.

In fact, keeping out of sight was probably _more_ important for her than most of the other members, because of her refusal to wear one of their trademark masks. She'd gotten into a few arguments with Adam on the matter, but he'd eventually given up and let her operate without one.

It wasn't that she didn't understand the need for them. The White Fang had changed a lot since their early years. Rallies replaced with armed attacks, boycotts replaced with fire-bombings….anonymity was practically a necessity for them to operate now without their members being arrested on sight while off the job.

If anything, her refusal to wear a mask of her own just made things more difficult. There was no telling when some picture or video of her actions would be released to the public. One moment of carelessness on an assignment, one bad step into a security camera's line of sight, and everything would be over.

But no matter how much easier it might make things, Blake couldn't bring herself to use a mask. If she did, she couldn't think of it as anything more than becoming the kind of beast so many other people considered her kind to be. It would just be admitting defeat.

…..Or, at least, that's what she kept telling herself.

"Hey, Blake!"

She stopped, still as a statue before. Who called out? Who recognized her? Who….wait. Didn't she recognize that voice?

Slowly turning to the voice's source, Blake visibly relaxed upon realizing that, yes, she recognized the voice, and no, she wasn't in any danger.

"Tucson?" she sighed out, relieved that she hadn't been called out by someone else.

Not to mention a little embarrassed at her rather extreme reaction to his call, especially at his rather bemused expression. Frankly, she was feeling like a deer caught in the headlights-and NO, that wasn't meant to be an animal pun.

"Oookay," Tucson drawled out, an amused smile on his face. He always did rather enjoy getting a slight jump out of her and teasing her over it incessantly. "Pretty interesting reaction there."

He stood aside, gesturing to the entrance to his book store that she had unknowingly walked right by. "By the way," he playfully ribbed, "you missed the entrance."

Doing her best to glare the large man into submission, Blake sullenly walked over and entered the Book store she visited so often. Hoping she could put the embarrassing moment behind her and move on, hopefully by burying her face into a good book for a while. _ALSO_ hopefully, Tucson wouldn't hold this over her head for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately…..

"So," Tucson began, mischief creeping into his voice, "Is my voice really that scary to you? Need me to take an oath of silence for a while?"

…..Yeah, of course he wouldn't make it that easy for her. He seemed to have made it his personal mission to get her to lighten up whenever she came by.

And the only way to make him shut up was by giving back just as well.

"You, scary?" Blake sarcastically answered, rolling her eyes as she passed the threshold into the store. "Hardly. You couldn't even scare your own reflection. I already know how much of a teddy bear you really are."

In fact, teddy bear was actually a rather apt description for Tucson in a friendly environment. He was a very tall man, broad shouldered and muscular, with sideburns that brought a Wolverine to mind rather than the Puma which his Faunus traits resembled.

He was usually much more serious, preferring to keep a more professional attitude in his shop. However, after forming a friendly rapport over their mutual love of books, she found that he was actually quite playful when in select company.

Blake wasn't sure if knowing she was one of those distinct few was something she found heartwarming or annoying.

"Really?" a new voice called out, causing the black-haired teen to stop a few steps into the store. "I always thought Tucson was more of a giant cat."

Turning to the side, Blake saw a new face. Human. Tall, somewhere under six feet, with black hair. He wore a pair of sunglasses and was dressed in a white button-up shirt, bared open to show the black t-shirt underneath. His lower body was covered by a pair of black jeans, and shoes of the same color.

He also had a smile that was a little _too_ similar to the one Tucson had on his own face and…..wait, did they just shoot each other some kind of conspiratorial look?

"After all," the human continued, gesturing to the sides of his face, "just look at those thick sideburns. Actually, maybe he's part wolverine."

"Hey," Tucson playfully retorted, "What's wrong with a good pair of sideburns. It helps with the macho look."

"It makes you look like a Neanderthal," the human teased back. "A hairy Neanderthal with no class."

"Hmph. Says the baby-face with no facial hair."

"Oh, come on. You know you're jealous. I don't have to waste money on shaving cream, for one thing."

"Mention that stuff in my store again and I'll throw you out."

As the two traded playful jibes with each other, with subjects ranging from facial hair to clothing styles to TV shows to book genres, Blake came to a disturbing discovery as she stood between the two of them.

'_Oh Oum_,' she thought, eyes widening in horror, '_there's TWO of them_.'

Seeking an escape from the madness, she quickly raced to the nearest bookshelf, searching for anything matching her taste in authors or genres. Hell, at this point she'd probably yank a book out at random just to escape the chatter behind her.

Almost literally tearing through the bookcase, Blake searched for something, ANYTHING to serve as an island of peaceful distraction amidst the sea of crazy behind her. '_Violet's Garden, The Thief and the Butcher, come on come on COME ON!_' She was panicking now, if she didn't find something soon their crazy might become contagious.

Fortunately, she found a book of interest soon after that line of thought. Written by one of her favorite authors, it was actually a requested delivery she asked for Tucson to arrange. In fact, it was her primary reason for coming down today.

With source of calm in hand, Blake began to read and block out the insanity behind her. This was one of the reasons she liked books so much, you just needed to start reading and the whole world around you just started to slip away. The reality around you faded as you immersed yourself into a new one, far away from the noise, the distractions, the people… the problems.

Shaking that last thought away, Blake continued reading. Allowed it to pull her mind into a different world as described by the writer.

…..Or at least she tried, before the attempt was interrupted.

"Yo, Blake," Tucson called out, apparently finished with his _debate_. "I see you found the book you ordered. Enjoying it?"

"Yes," she tensely responded, turning back to level him a quick glare. "I also think I'd enjoy it more with some _peace and quiet_."

Tucson quickly backed off, recognizing the landmine for what it was. He liked getting a jump out of her, but he REALLY didn't want her to explode on him.

Blake had a slow fuse, but when it hit the charge? BOOM! For all her calm, an angry Blake was a truly terrifying thing.

With Tucson scared off, Blake went back to reading her book. Hopefully, this time she could read without an interruptions.

…..Yeah, Right.

"_The War Within_, by Michael Schaffer," said a voice behind her.

It came out quietly behind her, barely even a whisper, but it was still loud enough for Blake to hear. It was also enough to startle her slightly and turn around in surprise, her eyes landing on the only other customer in the store. The one who was, moments ago, speaking with Tucson on the other side of the store.

'_How did he….?_' she thought, mind still rushing from the shock. Blake had an incredible sense of hearing, even for a Cat Faunus. She could literally count the number of times somebody had snuck up on her on the fingers of one hand. Even then, most of those times had been in her early childhood.

Which begged the question of how this seemingly normal human could have snuck up one her, from at least twenty feet away, over a slightly creaky floor, without making a single sound. Seriously, was he some kind of ghost?

She was about to ask the man exactly that, but unfortunately the only words that materialized from her shock were, "W-what?"

Hey, points for saying something at least.

"The book you're reading," the man responded, apparently taking her question for meaning something else. "It's a good book. Schaffer's a great writer. I especially like how he can portray philosophical concepts in a way that has a physical expression and presence in his stories."

_That_ pulled Blake's mind out of its rut. With her mind focusing on a subject that actually held her interest, she quickly regained her bearings and calmed down.

"You've read it before?" she asked tentatively. Books may have been Blake's passion, but conversation was something else entirely. Just because someone shared her interest, that didn't mean she was very good at talking about it.

Her eyes narrowed. "Actually, how could you have read it before? It only came out last week."

The man favored her with an easy grin -seriously, did he _ever_ stop smiling- and nodded. "Yeah. I pre-ordered it for when it came out. I only just recently finished it though. My favorite part was when-"

Blake raised her hands up to her ears, trying her best to muffle out the spoiler-to-be. "Nonononono! No spoilers, I've only JUST got the book!" She did her best to accompany her words with another glare….but, unfortunately, it was pretty hard to muster up a good searing look when you had both hands covering up your ears.

Actually, now that she thought about it, covering up her ears wouldn't do much anyway. She _did_ have a secondary pair of ears hidden in her bow.

That was when Blake realized that the man in front of her had actually stopped talking. And he was flashing her _another_ easy smile.

Honestly, it was kinda getting on her nerves. Even Tucson usually didn't aggravate her this easily.

"Alright, alright," the man spoke, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. "I won't say anything. No spoilers."

Blake gave him a hard look, "Really?"

"Really," he affirmed, holding a hand out to her. "Truce?"

Slowly lowering her hands down from their position over her ears, the teenage Faunus' eyes stared down at the hand offered to her. Then up to the man's face. Then back down to the hand. Finally, after repeating the cycle several times, Blake reached out to shake his hand. "Truce. So, you're…"

"Just call me Monty," he answered with yet another smile. But for some reason, Blake didn't find the expression so aggravating this time.

After their hands parted from the brief contact, Blake was at something of a loss of what to do. Despite their little…._truce_, she wasn't really sure what there was to do. Maybe….keep talking about books?

"So…..You've read his books before? Which ones?"

…WHAT? She already said conversation wasn't her strong suit.

Fortunately, Monty seemed quite happy to go with the topic.

"Lemme see," he muttered, his expression becoming a little more focused as he explored his memory. After a moment of thought, he seemed to reach his conclusion and started listing off titles. "_The Hidden World_, _Legacy of Secrets_ and _Crowns of Ice_."

For a moment, Blake just stood quietly, blinking like an owl. That was a little unexpected. Sure, this Monty guy said he'd read Schaffer's books before, but she'd honestly thought he was just trying to use that as a conversation springboard simply to be nice. Or some cheap attempt to hit on her. Really, this wouldn't be the first time, even with somebody in his…..twenties?

So it was a pleasant surprise that this guy was actually being serious about just having a real conversation. She was getting pretty tired of people trying to use books for something so silly.

"Good taste," she said, a small and genuine smile on her face. "I think my favorite is _The Hidden World_. How do you think _The War Within_ measures up?"

"I'd say it compares very well," Monty answered, "My favorite is _Legacy of Secrets_. There's so many plot twists that you have to re-read it several time to know everything that's going on and how it's all connected."

And the conversation continued. Whether it was for a few minutes or over an hour Blake had no idea, but honestly, she was having so much fun that she didn't even care. It was so rare that she ever encountered someone who shared her interests, so she was pretty much making up for lost time.

Unfortunately, time stopped for nobody. After some time talking, Tucson told them he was closing up for the night and she bought the book she came for before walking out of the store with Monty in tow, their conversation going on as if they hadn't even left. Their mutual path eventually took them down a small alleyway before their conversation began to take a deeper turn.

"I also like the _Night Angel_ trilogy by Brent Weeks," Monty stated, his own turn coming up in their little verbal back-and-forth. "His writing style is incredible. It's so fluid and fast and alive that it feels like the story is-is…coming alive in your own head."

"So you'd recommend it?" Blake questioned. One thing that she'd noticed was that Monty was quite generous with his praise. Not in an obsessive way like some rabid fanboy, but in an appreciative and sincere way. The kind of praise that you honestly couldn't help but want to believe whenever he spoke it.

Monty looked thoughtful for a moment, thinking over his response. "Yes and no," he paradoxically answered, drawing a look askance from Blake at his odd wording. He shook his head. "It's a great series, but trust me when I say it isn't for the faint of heart. It _really_ doesn't hold back on the blood, grit, gore and terror."

"Then why do you like it so much?" she asked. She had only met Monty barely an hour ago, but he didn't really strike her as a fan of everything dark and gritty. He just seemed too cheerful and friendly for that.

"Because it's so much more _real_," he retorted, his expression changing to a far off look as Blake looked at him with a questioning gaze. When Monty suddenly came to a halt she stopped with him, her questioning look never averting from him. After a moment he turned to her, with an intensity that she honestly found a little intimidating. "Real life isn't like a fantasy. It isn't nice. Things aren't just gonna all work out if you go with the flow. Just because you might _save_ the world that doesn't mean it'll actually get _better_. You can't wait for the right moment or for some…knight in shining armor to come and save you."

Monty held Blake's gave for a while, before turning away and seeming to stare off into the distance, deep in thought. Somehow, Blake knew he wasn't done yet. So she waited, letting him recollect his thought to continue.

He didn't disappoint.

"All the time," Monty started, his voice low and solemn, "I'm hearing about stories where everything is _easy_. Where everything good is _handed_ to the Protagonist. Where everything is simple and clear-cut and it all ends up fine in the end without any problems."

Monty gestured with his arms, probably in an attempt to put more emphasis in his words, or just trying to show his frustration. Apparently, he could be quite expressive when voicing his opinions.

"I think good stories should be _hard_. The Protagonist should struggle and fight for every victory. He should know what it's like to lose. He shouldn't win _just_ because the writer is on his side and wants him to win just so he can make a point. How can that kind of stuff inspire people when they know it only works in stories instead of real life? How can anybody make the world better when they're caught up fantasizing something that isn't even real?"

Monty seemed to visibly calm down as his little speech came to an end. His shoulders loosened and his arms fell into place, his hands slipping into his pockets for some warmth against the cold night air.

He looked over at her again, not quite as intense as before but definitely with a weight behind his eyes. He was waiting. Waiting for her to say her own piece on the matter, to give her own opinion.

"….Do you really think life is like that?"

She didn't like how her response came out. Didn't like how her eyes ever so slightly averted from his own at the last moment. How she sounded so small as she spoke.

How she phrased it as a question despite knowing what he said was true.

It reminded her of the White Fang too much. How much they had change and how she'd been powerless to stop it.

She'd spent her whole life fighting for her own kind. Every boycott and rally, every protest and demonstration, hoping so hard that people would listen. That they could change things for the better.

Then the White Fang _changed_.

Rallies became kidnappings, protests became armed attacks and words of fairness and encouragement turned into spite and bile poured from their own mouths. Everything about the White Fang she used to know started turning into a nightmare. People were _hurt_, laws were _broken_, lines were _crossed_ and _blood was shed_.

They said it was because peaceful methods didn't work. Because if people were asked to change things for the Faunus, they could always say no. So they simply wouldn't give them the option, they would make people hear them and change things the hard way.

And she couldn't do anything but watch. Watch the organization she thought of as a family twist and blacken into a shadow of what it used to be. Until it became the White Fang only in name.

And here she was. Incapable of even looking some stranger in the eye, all because his choice of words reminded her of just what little her love of books really did to help her situation. Reminding her it was nothing more than her personal escape from reality. From all her fears and mistakes.

'_Pathetic.'_

Blake's body language seemed to be doing a good job of matching her mood. The ears hidden under her bow drooped slightly in her melancholy, even as her eyes stared shamefully downwards to the ground. Her posture in general seemed to somehow slacken and fall at the same time, as if she was being pushed down by a great weight. As if the weight of her failures stopped being psychological and became all too physical.

She almost flinched when Monty suddenly spoke up.

"Yeah, I believe it. I also believe things can still get better anyway."

'…_..What?'_

His words stirred her from her dark mood, pulling her from the doubts in her own mind. Staring up at him in surprise, Blake looked him in his eyes even through the sunglasses he wore. A moment ago he was saying that fantasy had no place in reality, that the world wasn't nice enough to ever let it happen. What did he mean by going back on that? Or was there something she missed?

"Weren't you just saying real life isn't like those fantasies?"

"I did," Monty confirmed. "But you don't need to live in a fantasy to get a happy ending. You just gotta work harder to get it."

'_Work harder to…._'

"It can't be that simple," Blake countered.

"Really?" Monty asked, tilting his head to the side. The expression wasn't meant as a question, but a challenge.

"Yes, Really."

"Care to explain how?"

Blake almost gaped at that. He was joking, right? After everything he already said he was expecting her to _explain_ how his own words were true?!

For a moment she thought he was just mocking her for some reason. Acting as if he had no idea what he was even saying, much less the implications. But….for some reason she couldn't really believe that was what he was trying to do. It just didn't fit.

So, for lack of a better option, she complied.

"You said it yourself," she began. "The world just isn't nice enough to let that happen. It's cold, it's cruel and it's not fair but it's a _fact_. If things could really be that simple, the world today would be a wholly different place." Her voice took a somber tone. As much as she hated to say this, there was just no backing out now, she needed to make this clear. "But as much as we want it to change and get better, this just isn't the kind of fantasy where it can happen."

She sighed slightly. It actually hurt a little, saying those things, but he asked for it. For a while she just stood there, looking Monty in the eye and daring him to say otherwise.

Monty, for his part, was just quietly staring back at her. Blake was pretty sure it was some kind of psychological trick, the long stretches of silence he interspersed between any important statements. Keeping them waiting for every word was a pretty good negotiation tactic, getting them nervous and on edge.

In another life he would've probably made an incredible actor. He definitely had the sense of drama down. An opinion he proceeded to prove when he dropped his next couple of choice words and get her staring at him again.

"Are you familiar with Faunus history?"

Blake couldn't quite hide the reaction, despite her best efforts. Her eyes widened slightly and her posture seemed to both go ramrod straight and stiff as a board at once. Maybe if it was farther away he wouldn't have noticed but, honestly, Blake didn't think distance would've helped. Monty was proving to be almost scarily perceptive and…..wait a minute…

"You knew." She didn't even bother phrasing it as a question. Monty's 'oh so innocent' look only made her even more sure. "How?"

Monty smiled again, raising a hand up to his head to point a finger straight at his own scalp. "You're ears twitch."

And then, in addition to her stiff posture, Blake could just feel the blush coming on.

…..Not to mention the twitching of her cat ears, as if to prove his point even more. '_Dammit_'

Doing the best to gather up the remnants of her dignity, Blake calmed down and loosened her posture –paying special attention to her cat ears to make sure they stopped their damn _twitching_\- before giving him her answer.

"Of course I know about my own people's history. Why?"

"Then you know how bad the Faunus had it before the war, right?"

Blake flinched slightly at that. How could she _not_ know about how bad it was back then? The time when her people were treated as slaves in practically all but name. Hell, in some ways they even were in name. Traded around like livestock, shipped around like cargo for a damn zoo. For the love of Oum, they went as far as to name their supposed home continent Menagerie. The place they decided to dump them off to and leave so many of her kind to rot. The place was a nightmare.

"Yes," she hissed out. Talking about that always got her angry. She hated thinking about what her people had been reduced to. It was like rubbing salt into an open wound.

"Then could you answer something for me?" He gently said, resting a hand on her shoulder as a sign of assurance.

She looked at the hand on her shoulder, curious. If it were almost anyone else she probably would've just shrugged the hand off without a thought. So why didn't she do that now? Why was she so at ease around this guy, as if she'd known him her whole life?

She couldn't even find an answer for that. Not a logical one anyway, but somehow she just….trusted him for some reason. Why?

Putting that train of thought in the back of her mind, she turned her eyes from the hand on her shoulder to the face of the one who had caused the thoughts in the first place.

Feeling a smile form on her face, even in spite of her attempts to hold it, she spoke, "You're just full of questions aren't you?"

And there was another one of the smiles she had come to know so well tonight, lighting up Monty's face again even as he pulled his hand off her shoulder.

"There's nothing wrong with that, right? Questions are great. How could we have awkward pauses without them?"

Blake let out a chuckle at that. Jeez, now his humor was starting to rub off on her. If this conversation didn't end soon then she wasn't sure how she'd be acting after coming out of it.

"Whatever," the dismissed with a wry grin of her own. "You had a question, right? What was it?"

"Don't you think things have gotten better since then?" he asked, suddenly serious. The change was so abrupt that Blake could almost feel the whiplash as her own grin was quickly replaced with an expression of minor shock.

"Better?" she repeated, before shaking her head slightly to regain her balance. Whoa, Monty was scarily good at changing the mood on a whim. "Well….yes. I'd say things have gotten better since…." She stopped, realization dawning.

"Since how they were before the war," he finished before, his expression still serious. Turning slightly, he did a sweeping gesture with his arm back at where they came from, the bookshop where they had met. "Do you think Tucson could have had a bookshop of his own back then? Would we even be able to have a conversation like this at all? Don't you think that's an improvement?"

Blake stared down at the ground. It felt a little shameful that she couldn't even see that coming. Asking whether or not things have gotten better and then bringing up how things used to be before the war? That just wasn't fair, he backed her into a damn corner.

….Screw actor! Blake was pretty sure that if he wanted to, Monty could've been an ace negotiator.

"Fine," she admitted, her voice coming out in a low grumble. "Things have gotten better since the war, but-

"But that doesn't mean things will get better _now_." Monty interrupted, finishing her own statement for her.

Oh, but he didn't stop there.

"Don't you think other Faunus thought the exact same thing before the war happened and everything changed? They had it horribly, lots of them just gave up, but. Things. Got. Better! Things are even getting better now, it's just not as obvious. History is made up of small changes. Little things that add up, no matter how small they look apart. A thousand small step can beat a single leap almost any time."

And it made sense. As much as Blake wanted to dismiss it, what Monty was saying made sense. But….

"How are you sure everything can really change for the better?" she asked, looking him in the eye. How could he be so sure about that? With everything that was happening even now, how could he be so confident that things could get better?

For a while, Monty's only response was silence. He just stood there, looking back at her and meeting her stare with one of his own.

"I remember hearing a saying a while back," he finally responded, his voice low and serious. "ON of my favorites actually. Wanna hear it?"

Blake could only give an affirmative nod at the offer. After a moment of quiet in the night, Monty continued.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate." Monty began, voice solemn and deep. "Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. WE ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you _not_ to be? You are a child of Oum. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened by shrinking yourself so that other people will not feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of Oum that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

And with that said, silence reigned again.

"That…" Blake spoke, haltingly. She couldn't say she had ever heard that before, but it definitely left an impression. Not just the words but how he actually said it. It was like….it resonated somehow. He really believed it, somehow she just knew it.

"Pretty awesome, huh?" Monty inquired, stirring Blake from her contemplation to see he had yet another smile back on his face. "It's one of my favorites."

He slowly started walking past her, quickly resting his hand on her shoulder for a moment as he passed her by. As he passed her line of sight and walked off, he left her with his last words of their meeting.

"Never let anyone else and their beliefs limit you. Never let them tell you who you are or what to do with your life. It's in your hands only."

And he left. His footsteps echoed in the alley as he walked away, leaving Blake stunned in place. She could only stand still as his parting words flowed through her mind.

'_Never let anyone else and their beliefs limit you. Never let them tell you who you are or what to do with your life. It's in your hands only._'

Suddenly turning around and briskly walking after him, Blake left the alley in seconds….only to be greeted by an empty street.

'_Where did he go?_'

There wasn't any trace of him. Not so much as a footstep in the distance or a shadow on the nearby walls. For all the world it was as if he had never been here. How bizarre.

And more than a little disappointing. If nothing else, she had at least wanted to thank him.

After all, he gave her just the answer she was looking for. The answer she needed.

Turning on the street to follow her way back home, she noticed something on the ground nearby. Several some_things_ in fact. Books.

She moved a little closer, as if pulled to them by an unseen force. Slowly, she walked forward until they were right below her and she squatted down to take a closer look. It was….a book trilogy?

Her interest peeked, she took one in her hand for a closer look. The title of the book –_The Way of Shadows_\- was up on top of the books front and slightly to the left. The remainder of the front cover had a picture of a young man in a black hooded outfit peering straight forward with a pair of bladed weapons in hand. Looking a bit more closely, she noticed a strange flow of purple in the background, like some sort of wispy smoke. The bottom of the book noted the Author as-

-'_I also like the Night Angel Trilogy by Brent Weeks.'_

Brent Weeks. Then this book was….

Looking at the books spine, Blake looked at the information and, lo and behold, this was a book from the _Night Angel Trilogy_. The series Monty had told her about. Judging from a look at the other two, it seems the whole trilogy was here.

Did Monty leave them here? How?

Even as the thought entered her mind, she gathered them up. Taking them into her hands and inspecting them over. They were pretty worn, all things considered. Some frayed edges and tiny tears, along with some wrinkles in the spine, but they were certainly in readable condition.

It was only as she inspected them that she noticed something. A little slip of paper coming out of the first book, held between the pages.

With dexterous fingers, Blake slipped it out and pulled it up to her face to read.

'_A little something to remember me by. Take care of them, alright?"_

'_Yours sincerely, Monty_'

Blake whispered, "So they really were a gift from him."

If it were anyone else she probably would've been a little curious as to how they left behind some books they weren't even carrying, but given who she was talking about maybe it wasn't too much of a surprise.

Carefully gathering the books in hand, she headed on home, silently promising to read them later.

They were a gift after all, it would be rude not to read them. Besides, he did ask her to take care them and she couldn't do that by leaving them behind.

So with books in hand and a resolution in heart, she walked forward into the night and wherever her life would take her.

oOoOoOoOo

**AND THAT FOLKS, IS A WRAP.**

**FIRST OFF, I'D REALLY LIKE TO APOLOGIZE FOR THE EXTREMELY LONG WAIT COMPARED TO MY PREVIOUS CHAPTER, EVEN WEISS' CAME OUT FASTER THAN THIS. I'M TRULY SORRY AND I WANT TO GIVE YOU ALL AN EXPLANATION.**

**FRANKLY, THINGS HAVE BEEN **_**EXTREMELY**_** HECTIC FOR THE PAST FIVE MONTHS. MY MOM AND I HAD TO MOVE OUT OF GREENBRAE IN MARIN COUNTY UP TO TEHAMA COUNTY, WHICH MEANT DOING TONS OF PAPERWORK FOR OUR ADDRESS CHANGE, MOVING UP SOME OF OUR ESSENTIALS UP IN THE MEAN TIME ON A DRIVE THAT'S AT LEAST THREE HOURS GOING UP, DISMANTLING OUR BEDFRAMES AND PACKING EVERYTHING UP INTO MORE BOXES THAN I CAN COUNT. THEN WE HIRED MOVER AND A HUGE TRUCK IN ORDER TO GET IT UP HERE, BUT BECAUSE OF OUR POSITION WE COULDN'T ACTUALLY GET THE TRUCK UP HERE, SO WE HAD TO PUT ALMOST EVERYTHING IN STORAGE AND HAD TO RENT **_**TWO**_** STORAGE ROOMS TO HOLD EVERYTHING. WHICH MEANT WE WOULD NEED TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME GETTING IT ALL BACK OUT AND UP TO THE HOUSE, WHICH WAS REAL HELL WITHOUT A PICK-UP TRUCK.**

**PLUS WE HAD TO TAKE A BUNCH OF TRIPS INTO TOWN TO GET EVERYTHING IN ORDER. OUR MEDICAL STATUS AND CONNECTIONS TO THE LOCAL SOCIAL SECURITY OFFICE AND EVERYTHING ELSE. AFTER THAT I STARTED TAKING DRIVING LESSONS BECAUSE I HAVE TIME FOR IT NOW THAT I'M NOT WORKING AT SAFEWAY. THE LESSONS AND EXAM TOOK ROUGHLY A MONTH, BUT I GOT IT DONE AND PASSED. AFTER THAT I GOT SIGNED UP FOR ELECTRICIAN CLASSES AT THE SHASTA BUILDERS EXCHANGE AND GOT SOME HELP FROM THE DEPARTMENT OF REHABILITATION. AND ALONG WITH ALL THIS, MY MOM AND I ALSO ENDED UP DRIVING BACK DOWN TO MARIN A FEW TIMS FOR VARIOUS REASONS.**

**THIS IS, OF COURSE, ON TOP OF ALL THE TIME I'VE ESSENTIALLY SPENT HELPING AROUND THE NEW HOUSE AND THE SPARE TIME I USE TO KEEP FROM GOING CRAZY. SO, ALONG WITH READING VARIOUS FANFICTIONS ON THE INTERNET, FINDING SOME NEW ANIME SHOWS, DISCOVERING THE TOWER OF GOD WEB COMIC, WATCHING TV AND PLAYING A NUMBER OF EXTREMELY ADDICTING NEW VIDEOGAMES –LOOKING AT YOU WITCHER III: WILD HUNT- MEANS I HAD UNFORTUNATELY LITTLE TIME TO DEDICATE TO MY FANFIC. IT DOESN'T HELP THAT MY RATHER ACTIVE IMAGINATION HAS BEEN CHURNING OUT EVEN MORE FANFICTION IDEAS IN MY HEAD, WHICH MAKES IT A LITTLE HARDER TO FOCUS. AND FOR ALL THAT, I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE.**

**STILL, NOW THAT THIS CHAPTER IS OUT OF THE WAY, I CAN GET STARTED ON THE NEXT ONE. THEN I'LL GET TO THE REALLY BIG IDEAS. BECAUSE EVEN IF I SLOW DOWN, I AINT STOPPING TILL I DIE OR GET EVERY LAST THING PUT UP ON THE SITE AND PRINTED TO VIRTUAL PAPER.**

**ANYWAYS, WITH THAT LONG TIRADE FINALLY DONE, PLEASE GET READY FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER.**

**AND, IF YOU CAN, MAYBE YOU COULD POSTA FEW REVIEWS? KNOWING PEOPLE LIKE MY WORK ENOUGH TO PUT DOWN FOLLOWS AND FAVORITES IS NICE AND ALL, BUT NOTHING QUITE BEATS A REVIEW. HELL, POURING OVER OTHER PEOPLES REVIEWS ON OTHER FICS IS WHAT INSPIRED SOME OF MY OWN IDEAS. IT'S GOOD TO HEAR PEOPLES OPINIONS, THEY HELP YOU IMPROVE.**

**P.S. THE BOOK SERIES BY BRENT WEEKS IS ACTUALLY A REAL SERIES, AND ONE OF MY VERY FAVORITES. IF YOU DON'T MID SOME BLOOD AND GOR I'D HEARTILY RECOMMEND IT.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Yang's Worries**

Chapter 7

oOoOoOoOo

It was a fine afternoon on the mountainous outskirts of the city of Vale. The light of day had just begun to fade and the crisp air of night taking its place, but there was still just enough light to keep somebody pleasantly warm.

Something even easier for Yang Xiao-Long as she drove her motorcycle, Bumblebee, around the twisting highway outside the city like a bat out of hell. Yang almost never got cold, whether because of her semblance or her own cheer warming her up inside. Shivering from the crisp air was just something she didn't do, no matter the time or how quickly she rode by in the breeze.

It really didn't need to be said, but Yang _loved_ to ride on her motorcycle. Her long hair whipping from the passing wind, the air rushing over her as she sped on, the purr of the engine as she pushed it to the max. It was her favorite feeling in the world and _nothing_ could compare.

Well, aside from the satisfaction of kicking tons of ass and making awesome puns, but it was still right up there. Put all three together and she couldn't be in a better place. Hell, she just finished another one of her searches, beating the crap out of the shady patrons of some equally shady club, just like the one from Uncle Qrow's stories. Even made a good few puns at her expense. Today was a _**GREAT**_ day, she got the opportunity to do all three of the things that put a big smile on her face.

So, as she made another turn on the road and made her way back to Vale, she couldn't help but wonder why she was feeling so put down right now.

She didn't need to wonder long. These lines of thinking always led her back to one thing. The reason she as out searching high and low in the first place.

Her mom. And that she still hadn't found anything even resembling a clue.

It had been years since she'd found that photo of her mom. Years since she snuck into her dad's room and ruffled through his stuff, looking for anything even vaguely resembling a clue.

She was pretty sure dad knew what she did. She had tried to put everything back into place like it was before she'd entered and looked around, but he was sharp. One thing Qrow always lectured them on, was that you didn't last long as a Huntsman without being _very_ sharp. And dad lasted quite a while with his team before he retired from the field.

But for some reason, he never really called her on it. He never told her to give back the picture or give up looking, he just told her to be careful whenever she went out, waited up for her to get back home and asked her how her day went. Nothing unusual, nothing really out of the ordinary for anybody's dad. But, somehow, she got the impression that there was more behind those moments than usual. That they were _heavier_ somehow.

Maybe he wanted her to find some closure on the matter. Hell, maybe he was looking for some closure of his own.

'_Not that he even bothered looking_'

…..Jeez, where the hell did that line of thinking come from?

Fortunately, before she could start dwelling on that rather bitter thought, something else got her attention.

That 'something else' was another motorcycle she caught in her rear-view mirror, and it was catching up quick.

For a moment, she thought somebody from the pub she just trashed was chasing her for some payback, but she quickly discarded that thought. She saw the motorcycles parked outside, and this was a very different model from any of them, not to mention much better maintained.

The rider also didn't ring a bell, though now she could tell it was a guy. She couldn't really see his face behind the helmet, but the rest of him didn't really have the kind of look she'd expect from some thug in a bar.

Curiosity piqued, she decided to let the guy catch up, and it wasn't long before he was right beside her. Looking at his vehicle of choice, she realized it was either heavily modified or custom built. It had some similarities to foreign motorcycles she'd seen before, but she couldn't place the exact brand.

She quirked her head slightly in an unspoken question, wondering what he was doing riding right up to her.

Her response from him was a quick change in his posture on the motorcycle, followed by thrumming the motor.

Hold on, was this guy challenging her to a race?

Yang grinned under her helmet. '_Ooh, this is gonna be fun_'

Answering his challenge with a rev from her own motorcycle, Yang lowered her posture further down on her Bumblebee, getting ready to take an early lead with a burst of speed.

Unfortunately, her mysterious competition seemed to have the same idea. Instead of taking the lead, Yang found herself suddenly behind him, with the distance between them growing by the moment.

'_Oh, hell no'_, she thought.

Pushing the engine, Yang put her motorcycle into overdrive, catching up with her racing opponent in slightly under 30 seconds as they were coming up to a turn.

She'd gotten pretty familiar with these roads over the years since she got her motorcycle and this turn was no different. A downward counter-clockwise turn down the mountain road, followed by four more in alternating directions. The downward direction was great for picking up speed, but risky because of the extra turns, especially when you were already going downhill very quickly. It also happened to be the last major point on the road before entering the city itself, just a few miles off.

She throttled anyway, rocketing past her competition and straight down. She'd driven down this slope plenty of times, she knew what speeds would work and when she was pushing her luck.

She was mildly impressed when her competitor kept pace, undaunted by the thought of a trip down. She was surprised when he pushed to go faster.

'_Damn!_' she thought,'_This guy's as crazy as me_'

Well, there's no way she was gonna let this challenge slide. This guy had guts, but _nobody_ challenged her to a race on these roads and drove off with a win.

Pushing Bumblebee faster than she'd ever gone down this slope before, Yang felt the wind rush past her like a vicious gale, whipping her long golden hair into a frenzy. She felt the blood pumping in her veins and a light thrumming in her ears. She felt the burn of adrenaline as she pushed her motorcycle faster and faster.

She wasn't even sure if her, '_Now this is more like it!_' was just another thought passing through her mind or something she physically shouted in her own helmet. Hell, she wasn't entirely sure she even cared, she was having _way_ too much fun right now.

Yang was catching up again as they curved around the first turn, getting right beside her competition. Taking a moment to stick out her tongue in an expression he couldn't see behind her helmet, the blonde took the lead again. Just in time, because the next turn was coming up fast.

Their race continued, the two of them jockeying for first place even as they rushed down mountain road in the dimming afternoon. At some point, they turned the headlights on to make sure they could see in front of them more easily. It wouldn't do if they ended up crashing now. Luckily, there weren't many cars on this road so late at night, otherwise there's no way they would be going so fast.

That was for the best, given that Yang wasn't even sure if they could stop in time to avoid hitting anything. Not while they were both going this fast.

All things considered, it was probably for the best that they were coming to the end of the downward path. Too much longer playing their little game of 'who's first' and they'd be going too fast even for her to feel comfortable. Make no mistake, Yang loved a good chase, she loved a good competition, but she wasn't _quite_ enough of an adrenaline junkie to consider taking this kind of speed lightly. As it was, they were going fast enough that she was pretty sure an accident would result in her turning into a long smear on the road, Aura and Semblance or no.

By the time they reached the bottom of the mountain, Yang and her mysterious competitor were both edging slightly over 100 mph. Even without the added pull of gravity adding to their momentum, the determined pair took off along the flat ground at the mountain's base like a pair of bullets.

Needless to say, neither of them were interested in slowing down.

Still, they couldn't keep this race up forever. Yang knew they'd need to slow down once they got within the surrounding areas of the city, there would be too much traffic. Even if they were lucky enough to find a lack of cars, the tight street turns would be too risky, both for themselves and any pedestrians. She might like thrills, but she didn't like them _that_ badly.

Fortunately, her new friend seemed to agree with her sentiments. Gesturing towards a light source up ahead, he sent her a quick but meaningful glance. She got the message.

That light source, whatever it may be, would be their finish line.

Destination in sight, their jockeying for first place continued. With no more turns in the way, they both went all out, riding fast enough to be a blur to anybody who might have been walking on the side of the road.

Yang kept pushing Bumblebee for more speed, slowly cranking it up moment by moment. She was probably going faster than she'd ever gone before, her long hair thrashing in the wind behind her so hair that she could practically feel the roots pulling on her scalp. It almost felt like her hair was about to start getting pulled out from the sheer air friction.

And she still couldn't keep herself ahead of this guy!

No matter how hard she pushed, no matter how much speed she picked up she just could stay ahead of this guy. Frankly, it was kinda starting to piss her off. Well, at least one thing was for sure; this guy's motorcycle was _definitely_ modified somehow, maybe even custom made. There was literally no other way for it to handle this kind of speed so easily. For crying out loud, they were going slightly over 120 mph!

Still, she wasn't gonna give up without a fight. Pushing her motorcycle to the limit, she gave it everything she had with one final burst of speed. It was a good thing her dad wasn't here, because she knew for sure that he'd take her license and tear it up if he saw her riding at this kind of speed.

But it was working. She was winning! She was just about to pass this guy and reach their finish area first and it was gonna feel _so_ sweet to come out of this as the winner. It wasn't even like she was gonna rub it in the guy's face, not after he put up such a damn good show. She wasn't some egotistic jock stereotype, this guy gave her a more than good enough race to earn some respect. Hell, his confidence got him some points in her good books too.

Granted, she was still gonna use her winner's privileges to have him buy her some victory food in celebration, but that kinda went without saying. The winners never had to pay for their own food after a victory. That was just a fact of life.

Unfortunately, it looked like she was about to face the music on her own line of thinking. Because the moment it looked like she was gonna win, the other rider put on a sudden burst of speed and pulled ahead of her, passing the thresh-hold of their destination before slowing down.

And that was the day that Yang Xiao-Long, Huntress to be, thrill seeker, racer and fighting enthusiast, lost a race for the first time.

As she joined him in the lot of what she now realized was a gas station, the thought kept turning around in her head. More accurately, she was thinking over how she felt about her first lost race.

Surprisingly, she wasn't all that upset about it. She was a little disappointed, but it wasn't nearly as bad as she thought. It was a great race, the best she'd had in a long time, and she was pumped up on _way_ too much adrenaline from the rush to be particularly angry. Probably for the best, given what tended to happen when she got angry.

Still, if the guy got cocky and rubbed the win in her face, chances are she'd knock his block off.

Funny that Yang didn't even seem to notice that _she_ probably would've rubbed in in a little. Hypocrisy could be funny like that, huh?

As she parked her motorcycle off to the side of the station, she snuck a glance over at the guy who beat her. Now that they weren't going fast enough to make accidents just by sneaking a quick glance off the road, she was finally able to get a good look at him.

He was a tall guy, taller than her by maybe a few inches. Wearing a mostly black wardrobe of dark boots along with a pair of jeans and a jacket with what looked like some kinda dress shirt underneath. Interesting choice of clothes under the jacket, but she'd seen weirder. Hell, one time she saw a guy who ride around on a motorcycle without any shirt or jacket at all.

The real surprise came when he took off his helmet though. He looked like he had black and blonde hair. As in it was _both_ colors. Did he bleach it or something? Possible, but now that she thought about it, she'd seen some people with natural dual-colored hair before. It wasn't impossible that the hair color was actually natural. Beyond his hair, the guy looked like he was somewhere in his early thirties, with facial features she'd call…..not exactly sharp, but precise.

After locking his motorcycle in place and tucking his helmet under his left arm, he pulled a pair of dark sunglasses out of his breast pocket, firmly placing them on his face.

'_Sunglasses at night?_' That was a little unusual, given that putting them on in the dark tended to be counterproductive. She remember seeing one guy who was so desperate to look cool that he wore sunglasses almost 24/7. It got pretty funny when he started walking into walls, trash cans and streetlights at night. One time, he somehow ended up falling into an open dumpster! Kinda sad, but still pretty damn funny.

If god didn't want suffering in the world, he shouldn't have put humor in the package as a boxed deal.

This guy though? He actually pulled the look off. It helped that he only put them on now that they were somewhere with some strong light, so he wouldn't start stumbling around. It _really_ helped that he hadn't decided to wear them while he had his helmet on. There's looking cool and then there's doing something stupid. Nice to know this guy knew the difference, that was another point in his favor.

His eyes landed on her after a moment of looking around, and his face brightened up in a good-natured smile. Friendly, open, that was the kind of impression she got from it. She couldn't help but smile back as she got off her motorcycle and took her helmet off, shaking her head slightly to get her long hair a little back in order.

Somehow, as she walked over to him with her helmet in her left hand, she knew this guy was gonna be fun. Her choice of first words made her attitude clear as crystal.

"That. Was. _**AWESOME!**_"

…Okay, maybe she still had some adrenaline pumping. She did just come down from an adrenaline high via pulse-pounding- race down a mountain road. So sue her.

Fortunately her new company didn't seem to mind her mood. In fact, it looked like he actually found her loud shout to be a good thing, given how his smile seemed to widen a little bit.

"No arguments from me," he commented, his voice coming out in a friendly tone as he gave her a wink from behind his shades. "You're pretty good on the road. How long have you been riding?"

"Oh, you mean my Bumblebee here?" Yang gestured over to her motorcycle. "My dad got her for me for my Sixteenth Birthday." She smiled at that particular memory. Even years before she got Bumblebee, her father used to take her out on rides around Vale on his own motorcycle. Taking her out on rides around their home town in Patch or even riding around the city of Vale and the surrounding areas. It was always so exciting, watching the world go by as fast as she could blink her eyes and feeling the wind streaming through her hair.

That's why she loved motorcycles so much. Not just because they were fast and thrilling, but because they felt so _free_. Seeing the world fall behind as you felt the wind crashing over you, you felt like there was nowhere you couldn't go, nothing you couldn't do and nobody…..nobody you couldn't find.

….Wow. That dampened her mood a little.

"You got it just a year ago, huh? That's pretty impressive. Most people can't ride that well before a few years, at least."

Yang started slightly. Had she really been so out of it that she'd just zoned out before this guy said something? '_Well, that's embarrassing_'

The change must've been visible on her face if the guy tried to shift the gears of the conversation like that. She was grateful he didn't push her over the reason for her silence.

"Yeah," Yang commented, trying to muster her energy back up. She had to make up for spacing out like that, it was just embarrassing for somebody with her kind of cheer. "It kinda is impressive isn't it? 'Course, I kinda learned all the in's-and-outs from my Dad before I even started riding, so that kinda helped."

"Cool," the man clicked his tongue slightly after saying the word, as if testing the roof of his mouth. "Hey, you kinda thirsty from that race? I think I got dry-mouth from the rush."

Yang blinked before trying a dry swallow to test her throat out. Now that he mentioned it, she was pretty damn thirsty too. No surprise, given how much adrenaline she was getting from the race.

"Actually, yeah. I'm pretty thirsty too."

"Well, were right by a gas station store. Want me to get you some water? I've got enough money for two."

Yang grinned. "Ooh, a great race _and_ some free water. What a gentleman."

"I try my best, dear lady," he responded, tone as formal and stuffy as Yang had ever heard. Jeez, he sounded just like some stiff out of those old-timey movies and- '_Oh my god, did he just take a bow?_'

Yes. Yes he did. She stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, not quite believing what she just saw.

Yang barely reeled her laughter in, but she couldn't quite hold back the chuckles. Seriously, how could she _not_ laugh at a guy dressed up like a biker (and who had just beaten her in a race no less) taking a bow like some kinda fancy butler.

Luckily, he seemed to take it all in stride. Hell, the smile on his face as he raised up to his full height made it pretty clear he'd hoped to get a laugh out of her in the first place. Maybe he was trying to cheer her up?

"So," he continued, "would you like some water?"

"Y-Yeah," Yang confirmed, trying to put down the rest of her chuckles. "Yeah, some water sounds good right about now."

"Alright then." He turned toward the entrance to the station, walking off while gesturing her to follow. "Just hold on for a bit by the entrance, alright?"

"Alright," she answered, following behind him.

oOoOoOoOo

3 minutes later and Yang was leaning back against the cool cement wall on the side of the gas station with her new acquaintance. She felt a little embarrassed when he came back out and she didn't even know his name. Fortunately, he just took it in stride and introduced himself to her right after. The two of them side by side, they both guzzled down the contents of their water bottles, like a pair of wanderers who'd almost died of thirst in the deserts of Vacuo.

Yang sighed in contentment after draining her bottle down almost half-way. That bottle of cold water felt _so_ good flowing down her dry throat. It was a little weird, sometimes. Water didn't actually have any real taste to it, so how was it so good at times like this? She actually asked Monty that very question after it came to mind.

"Because it actually quenches the thirst," he answered.

"Is that all?" she asked, looking at her water with a little more intensity. "And here I thought you'd say something deeper than that."

"You'd be surprised how many things can be summed up simply, if you know the right words."

"Oh, really?" she challenged, pushing herself off the wall before draining the rest of her water down. Empty bottle in hand, she scrunched it up before spotting the trash can roughly 3 feet away. Taking aim and getting into position, she threw the crushed bottle and landed it right into the hole. "Two points!"

"Nice shot," He complimented, pushing off the wall to take a shot of his own.

Yang grinned in challenge, jumping in front of him with arms raised like the defender of an opposing team. "Oh no, don't think you'll get a basket shot that easy."

"And Monty dodges," he countered, moving around Yang and further dodging her little defense. "He ducks, he weaves, he shoots,' the can flew from his hand and over Yang's head, clattering on the trash cans rim before falling in, "He scores!"

"Lucky shot," Yang quipped.

"Luck had nothing to do with it. Your defense just needs work."

"Oh, you did _not_ just say that."

So there they stood, trading good natured quips and joking to pass the time. All in all, this was turning out to be a pretty good night in Yan's books. A great race, fun company with a sense of humor, a couple jokes and maybe even a new friend to round it all out. Really, she couldn't have asked for much better.

"So," Yang started. "What brings you to town anyway? You don't really seem like the usual kinda guy from around here. No offense."

Monty shrugged. "None taken, you're right. I'm a bit of an outta towner." He gestured to a bench by the street, not far from where they parked their motorcycles.

They both strolled over before taking a seat and Yang immediately slumped into her part of the bench. Damn it felt good to just sit down and relax after the ride down. She loved her motorcycle and all, but love could only do so much for the muscles that tended to get sore from long rides.

"Anyway," Monty continued, taking his own seat right next to her with his right leg raised and crossed over the left. "Like I was saying, I'm not really from around here. I'm actually from quite a ways out, but I'm coming on down to Vale to meet up with some buddies of mine."

"A get together? Now?" Yang asked, curious. Sure, she could understand him coming down to meet a friend, but this late?

"Not exactly," he clarified, shaking his head slightly. "It's about work, kinda. Today was supposed to be a day off, but something came up and he had to call me in for some help."

Yang quirked her head slightly, a questioning look on her face. "What kinda job works like that? I mean, you're from another town outta Vale, right? What would he need to call you in for?"

Monty rubbed the back of his neck, apparently a little embarrassed. "Well…it's not _exactly_ a job. More of a hobby, really, but…here let me show you."

He zipped open one of the inside pockets of his jacked before fishing around in it. Not a second later and he pulled out a Scroll, pushing a few of the holographic buttons before pulling something up. "Take a look," he said, gesturing at the screen.

Yang leaned in slightly for a better view, more than a little curious about just what this guy wanted to show her. It didn't take long to see what he wanted to show her was…..

"Um….whoa." Yeah, Yang couldn't really find anything better to say. Word's just couldn't quite describe what she was seeing on the video in front of her right now. It started off with a bunch of badass ladies fighting on top of what looked like a huge stone tower and everything just seemed to snowball from there. New characters started jumping into the fight and things just seemed to keep getting more and more intense.

It was, in short, _**FUCKING AWESOME!**_ Probably for the best because-

"You might wanna back up from the screen for a bit."

-if the video went on for much longer, she was just gonna end up pressing her face into the screen of Monty's Scroll. Even now, she was only starting to realize just how…..close she'd gotten. Seriously, how could she not have even noticed she was starting to essentially lean over his lap while staring at the damned screen.

Needless to say, once she realized just what position she'd gotten into, Yang immediately pulled back, furiously fighting back the rapidly growing blush on her face and trying to gather her wits for some half decent comeback.

"Uh-um…..sorry about that?"

…..Yeah, no luck there. Dammit, she was so flustered that her apology came out like a damn _question_! _HER_! Yang Xiao-Long, the queen of wordplay and smartass remarks. How the hell could this be happening to her?

She counted her blessings that Monty didn't seem interested in keeping her on the spot, just sitting there silently as he put away his Scroll. Anyone else probably would've used the opportunity to ruthlessly tease her. Followed by their immediate and severe regrets about it after she knocked their block off.

What? She didn't handle teasing very well. Yang teased other people, not the other way around. And no, she didn't notice the double standard there. Once again, hypocrisy is weird.

Then again, she probably wouldn't have actually hit Monty. She liked the guy, she really did, despite only recently meeting him. He was a cool guy. He was nice, funny, a _great_ racer and seemed like an all-around fun fella to know and be around. She probably would've given him pretty a nasty glare though. The 'zip it before I make you zip it' kinda glare, not the 'commit bloody murder with my own eyes and reduce you to a burning smear on the ground' kinda glare.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for the sunny teen to regain her composure. Really, it took more than a little embarrassment to take down Yang Xiao-Long. So, how to get the ball rolling?

"So," she began, nervous. "What was that exactly? I mean, don't get me wrong, but what actually _was_ it?"

"Web Animation," he answered simply, a grin etched onto his face. Come on now, did he ever stop grinning?

"Web Animation," she parroted.

"Web Animation," he repeated, grim somehow growing. What the hell was he…hold on, was he playing with her? Oh, that damn tease. Well, she could play that little game too. He had no idea who he was messing with.

So she was a little miffed when Monty one-upped her by getting the first word in.

"Yeah, Web Animation. The use of 3-D imaging and graphics generators to create computer generated pictures and videos." He turned to her, eyebrow raised in an expression of challenge. "Ever heard of it before?"

…..Oh, that sneaky little bastard. Pulling her along and putting her on the spot like that. _She_ was supposed to be the one who led people along and this guy was making her look like an amateur. It's been a long time since she got into a social spar with somebody this good. Looks like her opinion on the guy went up a few extra notches again.

The question was; how could she turn this little verbal spar around on him? How could she get back in the lead?

Well, like Dad and Uncle Qrow always said; when in doubt, bull straight ahead.

"Right, so it's called Web Animation. But what was that _thing_ you just showed me? It's gotta have some kinda title, right?"

Monty just sat quietly for a little while, acting like he didn't hear her. She was pretty sure he was doing it on purpose just to get under her skin. Apparently, he really liked to string people along as some kind of game.

She was on the verge of opening her mouth to say for him to keep talking, but once again he beat her to it.

"I call it 'Dead Fantasy'," he said, smirking even more at his most recent interruption. "It's a big crossover featuring characters from a bunch of different Video Game series'. Let me tell you, it was hell putting together all their different fighting styles. I had to do a ton of research on each character and their abilities and ways to boost everything up to maximum awesome."

"Really put a lot of effort in it, huh?" That was actually pretty impressive. Yang didn't really know much about what kind of work and processes went into Web Animation, but she didn't need to be a genius to know doing _anything_ well meant a whole lot of work.

"Oh yeah. That's why I was coming into town today. My friends and I make these videos together and release them out on the internet." He gestured to the Scroll in his pocket, "But he's having some connective difficulties right now, so I had to physically bring the finished product down myself. Hence, the ride down."

"So this is your job, then?"

Monty's face took on a thoughtful look for a moment, pondering over his answer. "Pretty much. We're a production studio, but still independent of anything bigger. We get by, though."

Monty shifted his legs slightly, probably relieving the tension in the muscles.

"So," he began, shifting the conversation down a different track. "What were you doing out here?"

Yang heard the question but it actually took her a moment for it to really sin in. Once it hit her though, she couldn't quite suppress the slight flinch. It's not that it was a rude question, she as pretty sure he didn't mean anything rude by it, but it still brought on some less than pleasant memories. Especially regarding the thoughts she was having right before their little race.

Monty apparently noticed her flinch, because he got a slightly guilty look on his face and started rubbing a hand on the back of his neck in nervousness. "Sorry. If it's that bad, you don't have to answer."

"No!" Yang responded, with a little more harshness than she'd intended. Monty didn't recoil, but he seemed to somehow deflate a little. Dammit, now she was feeling guilty. "It's not that, it….it's just that I…."

Yang kept verbally leaping around as she struggled for an answer. She really hadn't meant to snap at him like that but this was a sensitive subject. Most of the time she handled it pretty well, but tonight hadn't been going too well. She had just been getting so _frustrated_ recently and it was making this already uncomfortable subject even worse.

But Monty deserved an answer. He treated her in a way that was nothing short of friendly despite only just meeting her, the least she could do was answer a question or two. So, mustering her courage, Yang just did her best to start talking.

"I was out looking for someone." She stopped, glancing over to gauge his reaction. He didn't seem angry, and he wasn't pushing her to keep talking. He seemed curious, but he was willing to let her talk at her own pace. More than anything, that was what convinced her to continue.

"My mom, actually. She…..she disappeared a long time ago and I've been looking for her for years. Any hint, any clue, anything that could tell me something about where she is."

She stopped, letting her words sink in and give Monty some time to collect his own thoughts. He didn't seem to visibly react to what she said, just sitting there quietly. He gestured for her to continue, after a moment of silence, and Yang obliged.

"Her name's Raven Branwen." Monty raised an eyebrow in question at the name and Yang, expecting the question, intercepted. "That was her maiden name. My dad is where I got the Xiao-Long from. He's also where I got my hair and eye color."

"Branwen, huh? Any relation to a guy named Qrow?"

Yang blinked. "Yeah, actually. He's my Uncle, but how…." Her eyes narrowed slightly. Could this guy actually know something? "….how do you know about him?"

"I've heard about him a few times." Monty shrugged, dismissing the question. "Sometimes on T.V., sometimes in the newspapers. You're related to him?"

"…Yeah," she answered, dejected. Guess he couldn't tell her anything after all.

Ah hell, who was she kidding? Did she honestly expect some guy she only just met to walk up and give her all the answers she wanted? This wasn't some kinda cheap cartoon.

Besides, it wouldn't be the only letdown she'd had today.

Fortunately, Monty seemed to recognize her falling mood and made no attempts to push the subject. He just sat there, right beside her, waiting for her to talk on her own time.

She was starting to like that about him, honestly. He didn't push, didn't goad, just waited patiently for people to speak and think at their own pace. Guess patience was one virtue he had plenty of.

She was actually a little jealous of him for it.

"How do you do that?"

"What was that?" Oops. Looks like she said that loud enough for him to hear after all.

….Well, no going back now.

"How do you do that?" she repeated, louder this time. Clearer. "How can you just be so patient like that and let people do things on their own time? Don't you have your own things to worry about without wasting time just sitting and waiting?"

He stared at her, his face a mask of thought as he pondered over an answer. "I dunno. I've always been pretty laid back. Listening just comes naturally with it I guess."

"Well, I'm kinda jealous," she admitted. Her words coming out slightly bitter.

"Because it might help you look for your mom?"

Yang couldn't help the slight cringe at his words. It hurt a little, but it was true. Some extra patience would probably be a big help with putting things together. Hell, for all Yang knew she probably had more clues than she thought, but she just couldn't sit around long enough to take the extra time to put it all together. Yang wanted her answers _**NOW**_dammit!

"That's right," the words seeming to force themselves out of her own mouth. "Sometimes I wish I had it in me to give something a little more time and thought and put the pieces together. Just a little more patience to step back and think, but…"

Monty quirked his head at the pause. "But?"

"….but I'm scared."

Yeah, big shock, right? Yang Xiao-Long, the fist-fighter, the racer, the huntress to be, was scared. Scared of what conclusions she might draw up from what little info she'd already gained. Conclusions that could point anywhere from her mother being dead to being a traitor to….to running away because she didn't to be a part of their family. Because she didn't want _her_.

Of the very few things in the world that she considered scary (a _really_ small list), that was one of the few that really terrified her.

"I'm scared I might find out that she left because of me." The words came flowing out, like the floodgates opened up and she couldn't close them back up. "She left not long after I was born, so sometimes I can't help but think that _I'm_ the reason she left. That it's my fault we never had a chance to be a real family."

Things settled into an uneasy silence at the end of Yang's emotional admission. The teen was a little surprised with just how much she'd admitted to the older man beside her. She'd never told anyone this much before, not even her own dad. Kinda weird, how she was opening up to somebody who was, more or less, a stranger to her.

"You've never told anybody about this?" he asked, his voice at the same comforting tone.

"Nobody," she admitted. "I just can't help but think it sometimes though. I've actually been thinking about it more, though. I guess the reason I'm looking so hard isn't just because I want to find her. It's also because I want to know if she really loved me as her daughter at all."

Yang's face shifted into a bitter expression. A look that was so at odds with a face that always seemed to have a look of cheer and enthusiasm. It was a rather nasty change, and not just because of the look. Her words, if anything, seemed to highlight it even more. "Then again, she still left. Maybe that's all the answer I need."

"Your dad remembers her, right?"

Yang stilled at the words, her face morphing to an expression of confusion and surprise. Not one you'd usually see from her, but still a welcome change from her former look. "My dad?"

"Yeah. He remembers her, right? How she acted around you? The look on her face when you were born?"

"Yeah," Yang answered, hesitantly. Where was he going with this? "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything," he stated simply. "Haven't you asked him before? Any time at all?"

"Of course I have," she answered, more than a little heated. "He's told me plenty of time how much she loved me. So what? He's my dad. For all I know, he probably just lied so I wouldn't feel guilty."

"That's a complete load."

And just like that, Yang's thoughts came to a stop. Monty's choice of words and the tone he spoke with was such a shock that she couldn't even muster a response.

"Listen. I'll admit that sometimes a mom or dad might lie about something. A little white lie to keep you from getting hurt. But if there's one thing I know about parents, it's that they _can't_ lie about something like that."

Yang wanted to believe that. Desperately. But could she really be so sure? Hell, how could Monty even be certain of it himself?

"You're sure about that?" The question came out in a weak and whispering tone. So wispy that, at any other time, even Yang herself would've been surprised to hear herself.

Monty's voice, by contrast, couldn't have been more steady.

"No doubt," he answered. "You've seen his face when he told you, right? Did his own expression ever change?" He took Yang's silence as his answer. "No. He always looked you in the eye when he told you, didn't he? His face looked sad and happy and bittersweet all at once, didn't it? That's your answer. You might not have been around to see how your mother acted around you, but he was. _He_ remembers. And every time you asked, he had that look on his face because he remembers how much she loved you." He smiled down at her, encouraging. "If you really wonder if she loved you or not, just remember that look on his face. That's your answer."

As Monty leaned back, giving his words time to sink in, Yang sat in silence. Thinking back, she remembered all the times she asked her dad, just like Monty suggested. Remembering the look on his face at her question.

A look that was a perfect match for Monty had just told her.

Yang couldn't help it. She couldn't hold back the tears forming at the sides of her eyes, forming even as she started laughing. It started out as a deep chuckle in her chest, spreading up to her throat before erupting out of her mouth like great sobbing gasps.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, just letting it all out. Letting so many of the worries and fears that had been building up come out with a combination of the tears streaming from her eyes and the laughter coming up from her lungs. Every fresh tear and laugh bringing with it a growing sense of relief. Peace.

It felt so freeing.

With her laughter finally dying down, Yang wiped the tears from her face and turned to the man beside her. The one who helped her to let it all begin.

"You're really something else, y'know that?"

He smiled. "Believe me, I hear that a lot."

"Oh, I believe you."

After a few more minutes of sitting on the bench, just staring off into the night sky and stars, they finally got up and headed back to their rides. They both had their own things to do after all.

Just after Yang put her helmet back on, she turned over to Monty. This guy had helped her so much here, and it was just gonna end like this? Them both riding off on their separate ways, like they'd never even met at all? That didn't feel right to her.

"Hey," she called out, waving toward him to get his attention. When he turned toward her, she wasn't sure of what to do for a moment. Still, she refused to let this end without doing _something_. The question was; what could she do?

"If you ever need anything, look me up alright? I owe you for tonight."

Monty nodded at her, message received.

And just like that, they rode off. No racing this time, no competition. Just two friends riding into town. Then, at a highway exit she'd passed so many times, he turned away and she lost sight of him.

It actually hurt a little more than she'd expected, seeing him go.

Shaking the thought out of her head, she gunned Bumblebee into higher speed and raced off into one of the seedier parts of downtown Vale.

She still had one more meeting tonight. It'd be rude if she didn't show up on time.

This Jr. guy wouldn't know what hit him.


	8. What We Create And Leave Behind

**What We Create And Leave Behind**

Chapter 8 (Final)

oOoOoOoOo

It's amazing, really. The act of creating something, anything, and sitting back to watch it grow. To observe as it matures and develops, becoming more than you ever truly expected. More than you could even possibly believe.

Such was the thought of a peculiar man as he stood upon that distant cliff, so far off in the horizon. So far from any known town or anything even approaching what one would call civilization. Out in the farthest corners of known territories of the continent of Vale. An abandoned and empty place that people only knew of from maps, plotted out from the travelers on the ground and the airships that soared through the skies.

The man seemed so…..otherworldly. Not because of height or dimensions, but because his appearance seemed in constant flux. His hair changing from windswept to well-combed, the color shifting in shades, from black to blonde to silver or any combination. His clothes were similar, forming and changing in colors and styles found all across the world. From the austere and extravagant fashions of Atlas to the rough and survivalist outfitting of the deserts of Vacuo, to some style that may have existed long in the past.

Or, perhaps it was the future? He lost track sometimes, immersed as he was in the people of this world and all their oddities.

Was it a little odd that he would think that was a good thing? It was any parent or creators greatest wish for their own children to have a pleasant surprise for them, after all. For them to learn and master something ahead of their age beyond all expectations. To achieve something that should be beyond them. Not at all. If anything, he encouraged it among them. It was any parents dream for their children to surpass all expectations to become something truly great, wasn't it? If anything, he was a little proud he made a world that, one day, may do just that.

The man let a chuckle slip at that thought. '_Pride is definitely funny that way._'

With that thought in mind, he stared off even further, willing the distance to all but disappear from his vision. To see what he wished to see in the world. Anyone else would've considered it impossible, to see halfway across the whole of the world. To observe as if he were right beside whatever people he wished to see.

For distance meant nothing to Oum. Not in the world he had crafted with his own mind and hands.

As if willing the vastness of space and distance away with a mere thought, he saw everything as clear as day. He peered into Atlas, commonly regarded as the greatest power of the Four Kingdoms. His vision pierced through snow and mist as he observed. The people wandering in their warm clothes, hair rustling in a cool breeze that would put the winter season of any other Kingdom to shame. And that was in summer! Atlas was frigging cold in the middle of winter.

But regardless of the cold, the people of Atlas lived on. Their people were a sturdy one, determined to rise above even the cold harshness of their own home to become something _more_. Something that couldn't be held back by something as trifling as temperature or lack of easy resources.

The people of Atlas didn't just survive. They thrived in and conquered the environment and creatures that sought to destroy them. They formed a nation with a long line of captains of industry and technology. A military that was the envy of the other three kingdoms. A culture and identity built upon perseverance and sheer will.

Taking a closer look, he took note of the people who needed his particular brand of help.

He saw the General, standing tall and proud. His posture straight and confident. The look of a man who stood against threats from within and without since he learned to form a fist with his own hands. Responsibility and Discipline, his constant companions, kept within the hands he held behind his back.

He saw the Soldier that stood beside him. A posture almost rivalling the General's own. A name that represented the season her own country was so well known for. There was frostiness, but also a warmth to her. Albeit a warmth that rarely showed, even to her dear sister.

She _really_ needed to loosen up a little.

He saw the Clockwork Girl, taking her first tentative steps upon the ground. Hidden away in a distant lab, her creator and father beside her. So excited at the new world she found herself in, but nervous too. So concerned over her nature that she wondered if she was even real. But she'd find the truth in time. You didn't need flesh and blood to be alive.

Lastly, he saw the Heiress, so afraid of failure and being hurt that she had long built up walls against the world around her. Her whole life being gambled on a fragile hope, something she wanted so badly, yet could be so easily broken.

Maybe she needed a little nudge.

And with merely a thought, it was done. A fragment sent out to guide her in this moment of her life. Armed with nothing more than the words and knowledge needed to help her reach her own potential. No force, no pushing. Just the right words for the right person.

….Alright, so maybe he threw some of his trademark humor out too, but that wasn't so bad. The poor girl _desperately_ needed a good laugh.

He had to put some _class_ into this projection, but also a bit of subtlety. Wealthy looking enough to look like someone to invite, but not so much that he drew too much attention. His approach a careful combination of formal manners and affable demeanor. He needed to blend in after all.

Fortunately, he pulled it off. Her spirits rekindled, the young lady walked off into her last concert with all the grace and confidence she needed.

He decided to stick around to hear the concert. She really did have the most _wonderful_ singing voice.

With Atlas done, his gaze turned to Mistral, the 'Nation of Champions'. A region so steeped in battle and legendary heroes that people used their names even today. Its terrain so varied that no two areas were quite alike. Mountains and valleys, volcanoes and canyons, meadows and lakes and caves and forests, it was like _somebody_ decided to smash a bunch of environments together and see what grew from the hodge-podge.

In that certain _somebody's_ defense, he was pretty bored at the time.

The people themselves were no less varied. So many different territories and climates that gave birth to different ways of life. Tribes that formed together and broke apart so many times. Cultures and beliefs that intermingled and mixed before breaking apart and merging back again. War and conflict so constant that equipment from battles long since forgotten were still found today. Battles that forged them into a race of warriors that left legacies that were spoken of even now. Legends that will still be told far into the future.

But one particular legend, one still in the making, was what drew his attention here.

He saw the Champion herself. A young and rather impressive redheaded young woman. So much potential, so much strength and skill. Such a strong will and character. So recognizable that she became the forefront of her generation of the Hunters-to-be of Mistral.

Yet so burdened by the pressures and expectations of those around her. Everyone that could be a peer was so intimidated by her that they couldn't possibly think of her as an equal, much less a friend. Such a shame, really, for somebody who so desperately wanted a friend. Somebody who would see her as _her_.

So he sent her somebody to do just that. Someone to see past the reputation and glamour that caused the world to keep a distance.

So he sent an image with _just_ the right sense of secrecy. She obviously didn't want anyone recognizing her, so he spoke carefully with the young Mistral Huntress-in-training. It was a little sad how so many people overlooked the girl he was seeing now. She seemed so happy just to have someone to talk to. He couldn't help but leave a number for her to call, if she ever got a little lonely.

At least until somebody more permanent came along to stay with her.

For a moment, his gaze turned to Vacuo. The nation of deserts and scorched, rolling dunes and plains. Whether it was sand or cracked dirt, the one thing all territories of the Kingdom had in common was a deep and searing heat. Essentially the opposite of the cold and snowy Atlas. All but ruled over by a collective of Sheiks, each controlling his own territory akin to a king of old, growing wealthy off the rich mineral resources hidden deep beneath the earth. If Atlas was the land of technology and industry, Vacuo was the country of resources used to _fuel_ such institutions.

Regardless, Oum's attention turned to something more important. To the people of this Kingdom of the mortal world. The mortals who found themselves in this harsh land and made it their own.

Survivors. That was the word that defined these people. Perhaps just as much as the citizens of Atlas, the people of Vacuo were a hardy and enduring people. In a contrast to the people of the snowy northern Kingdom, the people of Vacuo learned to survive in a different manner. Finding and adapting the countless crags and canyons and deep tunnels to weather the storms and harsh heat. They endured, dodging the blows only to rise back up after the danger passed to rise all but untouched. A quality that saved them many times in the past, when other nations considered them to be easy prey.

He saw the footsteps and remains of pranks left behind by the Mischief-Maker. That little monkey Faunus with a sense of humor as bright as his hair. Trying to get people to lighten up and enjoy life, because the world sure wouldn't get better if all you did was mope around.

Cool guy. Could probably tone down the petty thievery, but he was always careful not to hurt anybody with his particular brand of humor.

Beyond that particular Faunus, however, nobody quite stood out. Strange that the people of Vacuo wouldn't quite have as much of a presence in the events to come. That was too bad.

Leaving the sunny and sand filled Kingdom behind, Oum's attention turned, at last, to Vale.

Ahh, Vale. A continent of lush forests and towering city buildings. Of coasts and lakes. Not quite as haphazard as Mistral, but still enough variety to make things interesting. He rather enjoyed his visits to that continent, walking amongst the trees and along the coast to the gentle lapping of the waves.

But what truly caught his eye was the _atmosphere_. So colorful, so vibrant and so alive. In the other kingdoms there was some underlying uniformity. Subtle, but to him these hidden attempts at assimilation was as clear as day. Atlas and its severe and austere society. Mistral and its age-old clinging to its warrior past and attempts to bring it to the modern day. Vacuo and its stringent traditions, brought about as a necessary result of the Kingdom's own harsh any unyielding atmosphere.

But Vale? Vale seemed to do its best to be everything at once. Loud and quiet, high and low, hot and cold and so many more things. The people themselves were a reflection of that, so varied that sometimes even _he_ had a little trouble keeping up with every difference and new change.

He tended to make a game of it sometimes. Turning his attention briefly away from what accomplishments Vale would make, allowing himself to be caught by surprise by whatever achievement they'd do next. Needless to say, Vale had given him quite a few surprises over the years.

And damned if Vale's people weren't colorful enough to fit in with their own country.

His attention turned to the illustrious Beacon Academy. More than a mere institution, Beacon Academy was a seat of power and influence that was felt across the whole Kingdom. The Huntsmen and Huntresses that trained in and left its halls having walked into legends and carved out myths of their exploits.

The grand appearance of the great Beacon Academy was as visually impressive as its reputation would imply. Reminiscent of a massive castle, sized up to the size of a small town, the campus grounds alone could easily house hundreds, maybe thousands if the people were pressed tightly together. Huge constructs of stone and metal, all the materials fashioned into great examples of Victorian era architecture. Of great pillars and hallways, towers and courtyards, so much terrain covered up that the academy seem to go on for a mile or two all around. Maybe even more.

But that was nothing compared the great Beacon Tower. A gigantic example of the finest in construction and engineering. A titanic tower of stone, steel and glass. Shooting so high into the air that those inside could see the birds fly past at eye level.

But despite the towers intimidating appearance, it was the people within that truly perked his interest.

He saw the Headmaster. Arguably the most powerful man in the Kingdom of Vale, a warrior and leader without peer. A man who's wisdom was in demand for a great many people in power. Yet, of all things, he chose to use his talents to become a catalyst. An inspirer and encourager for the students in his care, to mold them into the next generation of heroes.

Honestly, it was a choice Oum could respect.

He saw the Witch. Stern and unyielding, but with a kindness hidden underneath it all. Cool intellect with an instinct honed from years dedicated to her work. You'd be hard pressed to find anyone with greater diligence and dedication to her work.

In other words, she was wound up more tightly than a steel cord. He couldn't help but wonder when she last had a smile on her face.

With his check of Beacon complete, his awareness shifted to the city of Vale itself. Particularly to a number of individuals that would have an important part in averting the coming crisis.

He saw the Thunder and the Wind. One loud and energetic, the other solemn and reserved. So different from one another, yet so much greater when together. So close, inseparable in fact, that he honestly had a little trouble imagining them apart, and with an imagination like his, that was a _really_ big thing to note.

So he couldn't help but be a little sad to see them both so worried. Over different things, maybe, but concerning nonetheless. It was so easy for little problems and concerns to become something larger, especially when they were hidden from a pair that was so close.

He'd have to fix that, and, with a thought, he sent off a duo of his own to tend to the problem. It wasn't too difficult, given his own charisma, but he was a little surprised to learn his voice of choice sounded just like the male of the two. Apparently, live-and-learn applied to him too. It was also a little fun to see how they responded to seeing another Monty walking along with their friend.

With yet another problem resolved, his awareness moved.

He saw the Sunshine. Ever cheerful, ever bright, ever searching for that one little ray of light she couldn't remember of her life. He rather liked watching the trouble she got into on her adventures, seeing the dominoes fall around her as she rode forward in her life, carefree and enthusiastic.

But she wasn't quite so enthusiastic right now, her light slightly dimmed. Discouraged, maybe? She'd been looking for answers for quite a while now, but she apparently hadn't found anything concrete. Certainly not yet. The girl had been looking for years now, ever since she'd heard the truth from her father. Was she starting to doubt?

Well, that just wouldn't do. So, with a thought, he sent another aspect to give her a little nudge. Something to help keep her hope alive, to help her keep on going.

It was a good thing she didn't turn around. Otherwise she would've been greeted to the sight of someone literally appearing out of thin air right behind her. _That_ would've caused some uncomfortable questions.

Still, the meeting went well, in his opinion. He found the best approach was to speak with or engage someone over a mutual interest, to build a bit of a bridge before he got to the heart of the matter. Trying to push people regarding their problems only minutes into meeting them didn't tend to end well. More often than not, it just ended up getting them on guard and pushing away.

Oum had to admit, he had fun watching the race.

With another soul reaffirmed on her own path, his gaze spread out once again. Seeking yet another person who needed a little push.

He saw the Legacy. A blonde teenager in the park, disheartened and depressed. He wanted so badly to live up to his family's name and reputation, to be just like the heroes he'd heard of in those stories and fairy tales. Hopeful, desperate, but just not quite enough will. Feeling so defeated and downtrodden from his failures, on the brink of just giving it up. All his hopes and dreams, up in smoke.

"**Tsk tsk tsk**," Oum tutted, shaking his head in rhythm with the noise. "Can't have that, can we."

The boy was despondent, all but crushed that he could never fulfill his dream. If only the young man could see what he would eventually become. Someone who…..

Ah, but that would be telling. So, maybe a more…. personal touch with this one.

"Go to him," he intoned, willing another fragment off and away.

He chuckled a little, seeing the blonde start slightly at the sudden appearance of someone behind him. Was he really so shut off from the world that he couldn't see someone's shadow overlapping with his own? Some people could be so oblivious sometimes.

Still, he was a good enough guy. A bit inexperienced, but everyone tended to start out that way. Maybe not quite as oblivious, though.

Also, it was so great for someone to appreciate that bit of Web Animation. He really loved making stuff like that. Hopefully, this world wouldn't take too long to make the games he derived the characters from.

…What? What good was seeing into the past and future if you couldn't milk it for a little entertainment? Oum regrets nothing!

Still, the point got across to the kid. He knew what to do now, that's what mattered.

He saw the Girl From Shadows. That young Cat Faunus, an idealist despite all her best efforts at pessimism. She wanted to help people, to change them for the better. For her own people, yes, but mostly for _everyone_. She wanted to help her own people, but she couldn't put Faunus and humanity on a scale and automatically count them as the loser.

That was why she was so uncertain of her place right now, with the new and violent White Fang. A group that had fallen so far from its former ideals and approach. Oum had lived more than long enough to know that, for all its ugliness, violence was sometimes the only way. But _never_ should it be the only way, not when better ones were still available. And that's what the new White Fang seemed so intent to ignore in favor of striking out at the people and world that had wronged them. An approach the young Faunus was finding herself increasingly opposed to.

But how to approach?

He saw her passing by 'Tucson's Book Trade' and got an idea, sending out another avatar. He'd visited the place a few times and gotten pretty friendly with the guy in charge. Really, the guy was only scary on the surface.

The teen was a little uncomfortable with the new company at first, clearly the more isolated sort. She didn't even respond to his and Tucson's little ribbing of each other. Damn, he'd need a different approach.

Fortunately, Omniscience could really come in hand at times like this. Upon seeing her book of choice, he struck up a conversation with her regarding literature. Fortunately, he happened to be quite knowledgeable on the matter. Being a God of all arts and imagination (among other things), he was, of course, a significant fan of fine literature. Art was expression, and the written word fit that term just as much as any painting.

She opened up quite a bit after finding out his interest in books was real. Still a little aloof, but not as distant as she was before.

Of course, once the subject turned away from books, things became a little tense again. Particularly when he brought up her heritage.

Still, even though she was reluctant to talk back, she _listened_. And that was what he really needed from her in this meeting. He needed her to know that she couldn't let herself be defined by the world around her, or the people within it. Blake needed to be _Blake_, not what other people wanted her to be.

As he left her behind in that alley, thinking over what he'd just told her, he left behind a little gift. The 'Night Angel' series was a good one, if one that didn't hold back on the grit and blood. Not all art was pretty, but that didn't make it any less good.

Finally, he saw the Rose.

Such a bright girl. So innocent and hopeful. So full of energy and life. Just waiting to have her turn to help the world and the people within it. A little idealistic, but that was really just a part of her charm, in Oums opinion. The world needed a little more idealism, it was the foundation of some of the greatest achievements in history. The greatest _benevolent_ achievements, anyway.

So it was a little heartbreaking to see her feeling so down. To see someone so cheerful and full of hope be brought down to a low point just because of a little fear. Because, for all her spirit and confidence in a fight, Ruby was a rather fragile girl in some ways. Her confidence easily broken when strained by things she didn't plan for. One thing in particular.

People.

Yes. For all her confidence when Crescent Rose came out, when she kicked her Semblence into full gear and zipped around like a blur, Ruby Rose' weakness was interacting with other people. As she often said herself, weapons were so much easier to understand. They didn't mock you, didn't demean you, didn't whisper behind your back.

And they _especially_ couldn't be disappointed in you. They couldn't have their expectations of you be too high. Like the expectations of the people she cared about, now that she was going to Beacon a full 2 years early.

He had to admit, she had every reason to be worried. She was going to be a unique case for the Academy, Ozpin very rarely made exceptions to the age requirements for anyone admitted to Beacon Academy, so a lot of people would have high expectations of her. Expectations that would set her apart from the other students. Expectations from people she didn't want to disappoint.

He couldn't let Ruby's own fear stop her. Not when she had so much to achieve, so much potential to unlock. Especially when she'd play such a crucial role in the events to come.

Needless to say, something had to be done.

He was a little surprised at how quickly Ruby opened up to his avatar. Granted, he'd just bought her some food and the girl seemed innately trusting, but it was still a little too easy. But opening up was only half of it, he needed to help Ruby find the confidence to keep going, and that required some communication skills.

Fortunately, Oum prided himself on his knowledge of people and just what to say to them. The girl wanted people to believe in her, not as someone special but as just someone who wanted to help, wanted to find her own way. And _that_ happened to be his specialty.

Taking some time to connect all the dots and survey his work, Oums ever warping and shifting visage dipped in a brief nod, satisfied at his work.

Whatever came next, for better or worse, was up to _them_ now.

And so, he turned and started walking off into the distance. To a destination only he could see. To a place only he could perceive.

"**It's really amazing, isn't it?**"

Slowly, others joined him. His avatars, projections of his power and guidance that he'd spread around the world, granting guidance and aid to others in the moments they needed them most.

"**This world started out as something so small, so fragile, but look at what it's turned into now.**"

As they all intersected on his path, they moved toward him. _Merging_ with him as he passed by, their bodies briefly gaining an illusory composition, seeming to break like collections of glowing mist as they flowed into him.

"**I guess that just goes to show what imagination can do, right? All it takes is one step. Just one thought to create something great.**"

They were breaking sooner now, without even making contact with him physically. Their bodies breaking into motes of light and billowing like smoke at his mere passage, their memories flowing into him as he moved forward.

"**But creativity alone can't create something. You need to **_**make**__**it**_** with your own two hands. You can't rely on someone else to make your dreams come true. You have to seize the moment and make it happen, or it never will.**"

They were breaking by the dozens, then more and more as he led them at the front. Great mists of light billowing towards him from the back, drawn to him like how the sun chases the horizon at the end of the day.

"**That's why I've come here. Why I'm always gonna be here. Because as long as there's that one dream, one hope, one ambition left unfulfilled, I'll always be there to inspire them to their own path to make or become something great.**"

He stopped, the glowing fog of his countless avatars flowing in and around him until his body was all but invisible behind the mist that seemed to burn with a light from within.

And like the gates of a great dam, the purest light emitted from his body. So bright it could practically swallow the sun itself and chase away the darkness of night forever. Slowly, it took shape, forming a great pillar that pierced up into the air. An obelisk of light so tall that it scattered the clouds and pierced the heavens themselves, transcending even the confines of space and time.

"**Because that's what the world really needs, isn't it? Just that one push, that one word of encouragement, that one bit of faith and the whole world can change. Just a bit of inspiration.**"

He turned around, seeing outside the great pillar he'd created as he rose into the skies. He peered through the light so bright that it could practically blind the world. He looked down upon all the world and the people within it as he ascended to his domain. Looking upon every life, every soul as if in challenge.

But, most of all, he looked…..at _you_.

"**So, tell me,**" he challenged, his face shifting to a familiar grin, his body fading and his voice rendering as but a distant echo. "**What inspiration do you need?**"

**-XxX-**


End file.
